


Like A Safety Pin Through Your Skin

by kuriositet



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bandom Big Bang, Bandom Big Bang 2011, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:18:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 111,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuriositet/pseuds/kuriositet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey and his friends are working day and night to find out exactly what happened to his brother, to find the thing that's responsible, and to kill it. </p><p>Five and a half years ago, something dark settled over Belleville, NJ. A series of strange murders started to happen, and a stranger arrived in town and got a job at Bachmeier's, the local bar where minors hung out and drank beer. Gerard Way and his friends were frequent visitors, and the new bartender left an impression on him the very first night they met. Their connection continued to grow, and Gerard fell, recklessly and fast, in love with the newcomer. Meanwhile, Gerard's brother Mikey and his best friend tried to investigate the murders, and made a terrible discovery that would change all of their lives forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for bandom big bang on LJ 2011. First posted on DW. Art and Mix post is [here](http://kuriositet.dreamwidth.org/20896.html). Beta credit to [happilyappled](http://archiveofourown.org/users/happilyappled). Originally posted in 3 parts due to posting limits, but here I will squeeze it into 2.

_It's dark. Everything is so dark; Mikey can hardly see a thing. He's not sure where he is, but the walls feel rough under his fingertips, and the air is damp with a foul smell hanging in the air. Maybe he's in a cave?_

_He trips over something and stumbles forward, fumbling in the dark for something to hold onto, but he falls. White hot pain shoots up his knees and he whimpers softly as he scrapes his palms. He can feel the dirt and grime of the cave floor getting soaked up by his bloody skin._

_"Fuck," he curses under his breath, the loud whisper echoing in the infinite darkness of the cave._

_That's when he hears another voice, a familiar voice. Gerard._

_He scrambles onto his feet, pushing the pain in his hands and knees to the back of his mind as he rushes off in the direction of the sound._

_There's a coo—a soft, loving coo—and then a long moment of silence._

_Mikey's almost there: he can see them now, see Gerard. The moonlight is shining down through a hole in the ceiling, lighting them up. Gerard's pale skin is glowing and his eyes wide with fright._

_"Gee!" Mikey calls out and Gerard looks at him for just a second, a long second in which there is also a flash of bright white teeth, a flood of fresh blood, and then nothing. There's nothing as the light in Gerard's eyes goes out._

_Nothing._

**Saturday, November 12th, 2016**

Mikey awakes with a start, blinking in confusion and wondering where he is. A gentle hand adjusts his glasses for him and he recognizes the old books in front of him along with Pete's worried smile.

He blinks once more as he feels Pete's hands on his shoulders, rubbing and squeezing them awake. Mikey sits up in his chair, groaning as he feels a crick in his neck. His back aches and his ass feels numb, but he feels more rested than he has in ages.

"How long was I out?" Mikey croaks after a moment, slumping forward against the table again as Pete works his magic on his sore muscles.

"All night," Pete replies easily, digging his thumbs into his shoulders in a way that feels perfect. "I wanted to wake you up and tell you to go to bed, but I knew you would just keep reading if I did."

He lets go of Mikey's shoulders, leaning in and wrapping his arms around Mikey's chest from behind. It's familiar and warm, and Mikey leans back into it as Pete hums into his ear. He wants to smile, but it seems like his face has forgotten how to make it happen.

"You need to take things easier," Pete whispers. "I hate seeing you like this, all worn out yet refusing to take a break." He kisses Mikey's cheek.

Mikey just sighs, not having anything to say that hasn't already been said a hundred times. He settles for saying, "I love you," turning his head to meet Pete's lips in a light kiss.

Pete squeezes in behind him on the chair and holds him, kissing his neck and rubbing his back, whispering sweet little nothings in his ear like he used to. It doesn't take long before Mikey's squirming in his arms, though, not being able to relax for more than a minute at a time.

"Did Bob and Ray find anything?" he asks when he remembers that their two closest friends had gone out the previous night to follow up on a lead. Mikey had wanted to go, but Pete and the others had convinced him to stay in and read up on protection spells instead.

"Yeah," Pete replies, somewhat hesitantly. "Yeah, they met up with the witch, alright, and she—" Pete stops himself, pausing, and Mikey feels his hands go still on his back as he continues, "She said that he's definitely in Chicago."

Mikey turns around so fast he almost knocks them both off the chair. He's not sure he heard Pete right, and he can feel his eyes bulging out, his breathing getting quicker and his heart hammering in his chest.

"She's sure? He's definitely there?" Mikey feels the hope building up inside him, bubbling and fizzing in his belly like the flutter of butterflies.

"Yeah, he's there, hiding out in a cemetery or something," Pete says, offering a small smile. "We found him."

The only thing Mikey can really think to do is kiss Pete, so he does, fingers hanging on to the sides of his face as he kisses him hard. His knees rest against the edge of the chair and, when he leans forward, he's almost kneeling on top of it.

Pete's arms circle his waist, and Mikey can feel him smile against his lips.

"It's been so long," Mikey says, returning to their conversation, but staying close to Pete.

"I know," is all Pete says, for which Mikey is grateful. They've talked about it too much already.

Mikey wonders sometimes if they're maybe just not remembering things right. He was just fifteen when it happened; maybe he had imagined some things. What if they had all altered what really happened in their minds to make it easier? Maybe there wasn't anything strange about Gerard's disappearance? Maybe Frank was just a regular guy?

That's where Pete would normally step in and shake some sense into Mikey. "I know it scares you," he'd say. "I know that what happened scares you, and what we have to do. But, it's your brother we're doing this for. That son of a bitch took him, and if we can't get him back, we're sure as hell going to kill him."

It has been a long fucking time now, though. Five years and counting.

"I'm going to kill him."

*

**Monday, January 17th, 2011**

It was just an ordinary morning when Gerard looked up from his spot by the kitchen table where he was hunched over a steaming hot cup of coffee. Mikey was sitting on the other side of the table, munching on a piece of toast, still half asleep.

The morning paper was lying between them, facing away from Gerard, but when he looked up and read 'strange murders' in the upside down letters of the headline, he reached out and turned it over so he could read it.

It didn't really say a lot about the murders, just that there were two bodies that seemed to have been killed the same way. There was no other connection. One was a young female prostitute, the other one a male accountant in his forties. They weren't even found in the same parts of town.

"It sucks that they won't tell us more about how they were killed. Then we might know what to look out for," Gerard pondered out loud, and Mikey shrugged.

There was a part of the article advising people not to go out alone after dark, but Gerard doubted that anyone would care. There was always a risk when you went out alone after dark, it was Jersey after all, and these murders would most likely not keep people inside when other crime didn't.

"Rosie's husband is on that case," Gerard's mother supplied after a moment of silent contemplation. "I probably shouldn't tell you—she shouldn't have told me—but the bodies seemed to have been drained."

Gerard looked up at her to where she was standing at the counter, preparing a lunch box for herself of last night's rice and chicken casserole.

"Drained how?" he asked, his mind running at a hundred miles per hour, picturing strange draining ceremonies. Maybe the murders had been a part of some satanic ritual?

Donna looked apprehensive before continuing, as if she was already regretting having spoken at all. "All their blood was gone, but there wasn't any blood on the bodies or on the ground. There was just these puncture wounds on their necks," she finally said, looking uncomfortable.

"Maybe it was a vampire," Mikey suggested, biting off another tiny piece of his toast.

"Yeah, maybe," Gerard agreed, glancing down to the paper. He downed the remains of his coffee and added, "That would be pretty awesome."

*

School was dull as usual, although there was definitely some talk about the murders. Gerard talked a lot about them actually, but only to Ray and Bob. What the rest of the school obsessed over wasn't really something Gerard cared about.

"So you're saying vampires killed them?" Bob asked skeptically in a low voice, ducking down over his books as Miss Gubler walked by, looking over their shoulders to see if they were doing what they were supposed to.

They weren't; they all hated math.

"Mikey said vampires," Gerard corrected him, looking up from where he was doodling all over his notebook. "I was thinking it could be some satanic cult or whatever. That the blood thing is some ritual and that they're trying to—"

He stopped, staring off into space as he thought about just what a satanic cult might want to do.

"Make a deal with the devil?" he finished lamely, and Bob shook his head. "Wouldn't they be sacrificing virgins if they were trying to do that?" Ray popped in all of a sudden, proving that apparently it was possible to do the assignments _and_ carry on a discussion on vampires versus Satanists at the same time.

"Sure, but there has to be more than one kind of ritual," Gerard argued. "They can't all go around sacrificing virgins." He was getting a little too passionate about it, and a little too loud, but this was really exciting.

He couldn't believe his mom had actually provided him with that information, anyway.

"Why are you so against the idea of the vampires?" Bob asked after a moment. Before Gerard could reply, Miss Gubler was passing by them again, stopping just behind them as if to keep them quiet for more than five seconds.

"I'm not against it, I just," Gerard said when their teacher had finally gone away. He didn't really know what to say, though. He kind of just liked the satanic cult idea better, and it had been his idea.

"But you love vampires," Ray said, as if he needed to remind Gerard about that. Sure, he liked vampires and thought they were really cool, but he wasn't stupid.

"Yeah, but they're not real," he said matter-of-factly. "A cult is so much more realistic."

"Yeah, because Belleville is just overflowing with crazy people who worship the devil."

"Well it's not like we live on the Hell mouth either, is it?" Gerard shot back, thinking it was a really good comeback because Buffy references could never fail, but Bob and Ray just shrugged at him.

"What?" he asked when neither said anything.

"I'm gonna go with a new theory," Ray said after a long moment of awkward silence.

"Yeah?" Bob urged him on.

"What if it's actually a normal person? Well, not normal, but human," Ray explained, waving his hand in the air. "Just with a lot of problems."

The bell rang right then, and they had to gather up their things and leave before Gerard and Bob could respond to Ray's new suggestion.

The hallway was noisy and crowded and Gerard felt uncomfortable talking about the murders there, but once they got to their lockers, he finally asked, "So you're saying it's just another psycho?"

"A psycho who drains people of their blood," Bob added. "That sounds crazy."

"Maybe they _think_ that they're a vampire," Ray defended himself. "Or they're like Elizabeth Bathory and think that if they bathe in human blood they'll stay young and beautiful forever."

"That's the worst theory so far," Bob said, and Gerard agreed.

"Worst theory of what?" a voice piped up from behind them, and they all turned around to find Mikey and his best friend Pete.

"The murders," Bob replied. "Gee thinks it's a satanic cult, Ray thinks it's a crazy person and I don't really know what to think."

"It's vampires, I told you," Mikey said as if it was fact. "There's not a chance in the world a human did that."

"Sure there is," Gerard argued, not sounding as confident as he'd like. On top of it all, just as he stepped to the side to open his locker and get his books, one of the guys on the basketball team pushed him face first into it.

"Fucking freak," a voice said, and Gerard recognized it as the team captain, Bill Beckett's. "Sucked anyone's blood lately? Or do they keep you too tightly locked up at the freak show?"

Gerard didn't reply, he just waited for the laughter to die down as the basketball team continued walking through the hallway. He was pretty sure they wouldn't do anything else if he just ignored them. At least he hoped so; he really didn't want to end up with a black eye and a split lip again.

"Maybe he's been too busy sucking cock," another voice added, and Gerard didn't have to turn around and look to know that it was Gabe Saporta. _"Wanna suck mine, Way?"_ Saporta whispered in his ear, and Gerard flinched, not realizing how close he was. He could feel his cheeks heat up violently as another roar of laughter filled the corridor.

Someone shoved him into the locker again, and then they were gone.

When he turned around, clutching his History book in his arms, he met Mikey's eyes, and then Ray's, and both of them looked really apologetic. He didn't blame them, though. It wasn't their fault that Gerard was a loser who got bullied daily for being a homosexual freak. It wasn't their fault that he couldn't stand up for himself.

He just shrugged at them and took off towards the History classroom on his own. Bob and Ray both had English that period, so Gerard sat in the back by himself, drawing and doodling in his notebook.

He ended up drawing the dead bodies, with obvious puncture wounds on their necks. He didn't make them look like bite marks, though, but as if someone had used a big needle or something.

_Vampires don't exist,_ he thought miserably, before drawing a cartoon version of Dracula. Just because vampires didn't exist, didn't mean that he couldn't like them.

*

Bachmeier's was this bar in the middle of town that was known for being lenient when it came to serving minors. They never got busted out for it because they always wanted ID, but getting a fake ID at Belleville High was easier than passing a class. They weren't believable, and Gerard was fairly certain that all the bartenders could see straight through them, but it got them beer.

It was owned by this old German, Hans Bachmeier, and although Gerard had never been to Germany, the bar fitted well into his idea of what it must be like. The walls were all wooden panels and the furniture was made of dark wood and worn out leather. It was always dark and smoky inside, and Gerard really enjoyed being there.

The beer was really good too.

Bachmeier himself was in his fifties, a graying old man who, despite having lived in New Jersey for thirty or so years, always spoke with a strong German accent. He mostly worked at the bar himself, with maybe one or two people working for him, but Gerard always preferred ordering from Bachmeier.

He felt nervous whenever he had to order from someone new, he was terrified they would see through his bluff and not let him buy any beer, or that they would have him and his friends kicked out. This night was going to be one of those nights. There was a new guy working in the bar, and as soon as Gerard spotted the unfamiliar face, he felt chills running down his spine. There was a slight possibility that it wasn't just because the guy was new, though.

Because he was really fucking hot.

He almost didn't want to go and get the beer because the chills were definitely worse than usual and he really didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of the hot bartender guy. Unfortunately, Gerard had the best ID except for Bob’s friend Brian. ‘Damn Brian for working tonight,’ he thought as he trudged up to the bar, trembling and probably blushing. He threw one last desperate glance back to the guys who had already settled down at their usual corner booth, but he knew they wouldn't ever let him forget it if he turned back now.

He hesitated for a moment, looking up and down the counter to see if Bachmeier or that really awesome girl Lindsey were working, but Gerard had no such luck.

"So, what can I get a sweet thing like you?" Gerard was startled by the question and felt his face flush hotly.

He looked up at the guy who was standing right in front of him, waiting for Gerard to reply, but all Gerard could do was stare and stutter stupidly. The guy was seriously so gorgeous Gerard didn't really know where to look.

His hair was dark and long, tucked behind his ears to keep it out of his eyes. His eyes were perfect, from what Gerard could tell since he was avoiding looking straight into them. If he had to settle on a color, he'd say honey, but it was really impossible to tell.

"Uhm, I—" he stuttered again, and the guy smiled. He had a really nice smile. Gerard finally managed to find his brain again after what seemed like forever. "Beer. I mean, I want five beers."

He felt his face get even hotter and looked down from the guy's face, focusing on his arms instead. His bare, heavily tattooed arms. Now Gerard was stuck looking at the portraits of two women on the right arm and the Lady of Sorrows on the left one, and he couldn't stop.

Not only was the ink really amazing, but this guy had really nice arms.

"Do you have ID?" the guy asked. Gerard looked back up again, feeling kind of like he thought it would feel to get caught staring at a girl's tits and have her go all 'my eyes are up here' on him. Of course, he'd never had the urge to stare at a girl's tits, so he wasn't sure.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he said quickly, untangling the card from the bills of money and holding it up for the hot tattooed guy to see.

"So, _Barney,_ " the guy said, giving Gerard a suspicious look that appeared to barely hide a smirk. "You're not buying beer for any minors, are you? Your friends look a little young."

"No, no of course not," Gerard said really fast. "It's just for the twenty-one year olds. We like to drink a lot," he said, trying to make out that the beer was for him, Ray and Bob. Mikey and Pete looked way too young to pass for twenty-one.

"But it says here that you're twenty-three," the guy argued, still trying to keep a straight face. He obviously enjoyed watching Gerard squirm.

"Yeah, I am, but my friends are younger. Twenty-one. They're twenty-one."

"Oh, okay." The tattooed guy nodded and Gerard spotted more tattoos on his neck. "So you're splitting five beers on what, three guys? That's an odd number."

"Uh yeah, that's just—" Gerard started, but the bartender had already turned around and was pulling the bottles out of a cooler. To Gerard's surprise, he pulled out six bottles instead of five.

"How about I give you one on the house to even it out for you, 'Barney'? Just because you're so cute," he smirked again, not even bothering to hide it this time, then swapped it for a really nice smile.

Gerard was reduced to a stuttering mess again. "No, it's fine, I—"

"Just give me a good tip and we're even." The guy didn't seem like he was going to give in any time soon, so Gerard just handed over the small wad of bills and took the tray with the beer over to the table.

He didn't realize how hard his heart was beating until he sat down and had his first swallow of the cold beverage. He didn't even hear the guys comment on the extra beer. All he knew was the strong pulse of blood in his ears and chest. The chills were back and he felt a cold sweat break out on his back.

"That guy was so flirting with you!" Pete was the first to exclaim in a loud whisper that made Gerard blush again. "He's hot," he added, and all of the others agreed, but whether it was on the flirting or the guy being hot, Gerard didn't pay enough attention to know.

"What's his name?" Pete asked, and that brought Gerard out of it, but only because he didn't know.

All of they guys looked at him expectantly and he couldn't help but feel incredibly lame as he admitted, "I don't know."

"He's wearing a name tag," Mikey pointed out, and Gerard felt even dumber. If he had been able to keep his cool for just a second, it would have been long enough for him to take his eyes off of the guy's tattoos and face to look at his chest.

"I know, but I. I wasn't looking at it."

"So go look now," Mikey replied as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"What?" Gerard burst out, and then, to his horror, Mikey tipped his bottle sideways and poured beer all over Gerard's thighs. He could feel the denim get soaked through, the sticky feeling of it all over his skin, and he groaned loudly. "What the fuck, Mikey?"

"Now go. Get some napkins or whatever." Mikey pushed him out of the booth and Gerard didn't really have any choice but to walk over to the bar and get some napkins.

"Back so soon?" the guy asked when Gerard approached him, reaching out for the napkin holder.

"Uh, yeah. We spilled some beer, so I was just getting some—" He suddenly remembered to look for the name tag, and stopped talking in the meantime, because talking and looking at the guy at the same time was clearly far too advanced for Gerard to manage. The name tag was plain with a white background and black text spelling out _"Frank"_.

Frank.

_Cool name,_ Gerard thought, and then realized that Frank was waiting for him to finish his sentence. "Napkins, I was just getting some napkins," he said, probably sounding like a tool, and looking like one as he waved the napkins in the air in what had felt, at that moment, like a demonstrative motion. In retrospect it just felt stupid.

"I guess it's a good thing I gave you an extra beer then, since you spilled one out," Frank said, and Gerard nodded.

"Yeah, thanks. I'll just... go. Uhm, see you around," he said quickly, and quickly went back to the guys in the corner as fast as his sticky legs would carry him. He was pretty sure he was blushing, but he had gotten so used to the feeling he couldn't really tell. At least he didn't have to talk to Frank anymore. Not right then.

"So?" Ray asked as soon as Gerard sat back down, not even giving him a chance to breathe. "What's his name?"

Gerard took a swig of his beer before answering, needing the cool, relaxing feeling to wash over him.

Then, he could let out the breath he was holding and just let go. "Frank. His name is Frank."

*

**Saturday, November 12th, 2016**

The rest of the day is a drag, nothing happening and time passing too slowly. Mikey's restless and desperately needs something to occupy him, but not even reading about the protection spells that could actually help them can keep his attention.

Frank has been spotted. He's been spotted in Chicago, by one of their most reliable sources, and Mikey is closer than he's ever been to achieving his goal.

He can't stop thinking about it, can't stop thinking about the satisfaction he will feel in just a few days. This is what he's been waiting for.

He calls Ray and Bob, who are still not back from their trip to Philly, wanting to hear all the details from them, but he only gets the same story Pete already told him.

"Yeah, Maja said that he's been hanging out by one of the smaller cemeteries just outside of town. It seems like he's living in a crypt and spends all daytime there," Ray tells him, and Mikey nods to himself. Frank had been staying at an old mausoleum in Belleville too. They had found the shit he left behind when he took off. Clothes and a picture of Gerard.

Mikey swallows hard at the memories, and asks, "Did she say anything about— Was he alone?" His heart beats faster as he's holding in a breath, and he can feel Pete's eyes on him.

"I'm sorry, Mikey," Ray says, and that's answer enough. "She didn't mention anyone else. Just Frank." He can hear the sadness in Ray's voice and knows that the older boy is just as upset as him. He misses Gerard too.

"Fuck," he says, momentarily void of emotion. He adds, "See you later," and hangs up, just as the wave of rage and hate bubbles up inside of him. It's a slow buildup, slow and steady, but it still bursts, exploding like a bomb.

"Fuck!" he screams, not caring about who hears. He stands up so fast his chair tips over, and he turns around to kick at it before flipping the table over, all of the books landing on the floor with a chorus of dull thumps. His empty coffee mug cracks when it hits the wooden floorboards.

Pete is watching him from the corner, not moving and not stopping him as he tears the room apart, screaming, cursing and, eventually, crying. He doesn't move from his spot on the loveseat until Mikey breaks, sliding down onto the floor, wiping his face and smearing blood all over it. His knuckles are shredded from punching whatever had been close enough—the wall, the table, the cracked mug.

"He's gone, Pete. He's gone." Mikey sobs, his voice torn from crying. "I always thought, I thought because there was no body—I hoped he was alive."

Pete's arms are around him then, pulling him close as if to protect him from all the bad things in the world, and Mikey feels him press a kiss to his greasy hair. He always forgets to shower nowadays.

"I know, I know you hoped. I did too," Pete whispers, and Mikey clings to him. "We can't give up now, though. We're gonna go there and we'll kill him. If you can't, I will," Pete says, and Mikey shudders. "I'll kill him for you."

*

"So, when do we leave?" Mikey asks a few hours later when Bob and Ray have returned and they're all sitting around the table that's back the way it's supposed to be.

The room is cleaned up. Pete even managed to get the blood out of the wood of the table before it stuck, but Mikey's breakdown is still visible in the form of the bandages on his knuckles. They're all patched up and he feels clumsy.

Bob and Ray had looked at his hands when they first arrived, but didn't say anything. They didn't need to ask what had happened; Pete wasn't hurt or anything, so they knew Mikey hadn't taken his anger out on him.

_Pete knows to stay away,_ Mikey thinks, feeling a little ashamed as he glares down at the white bandages, before pulling himself out of it.

"We need to go, like, now," he says, looking at all of the others in turn. "We can't risk him finding out that we're coming so that he can leave."

Bob sighs. "Mikey—"

"I'm not going to spend another five years looking for him. If we miss this chance..." He doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't have to.

"We just need to be ready when we go, okay?" Ray says, leaning forward and reaching out to pat Mikey's arm. "Maybe in a few weeks we'll have enough equipment and a good, solid plan, but—"

"We're not waiting a few weeks," Mikey interrupts him." A few weeks could be enough for him to leave, and who knows where he'd go? He could even leave the US and if he does we'll never find him again. It's now or never." He gives Pete a pleading look, and the older boy nods and takes his hand.

"Mikey's right. We should go now," Pete says. "We're better prepared than you think. Bob and I are both pretty good fighters, Mikey's getting pretty good at the magic thing, and Ray, if anyone can come up with a good plan in one day it's you. And you have all of these contacts that can help us."

"Yeah, but—" Ray starts, but Bob interrupts him.

"Brian's coming too."

"What?" Mikey exclaims, feeling angry for a reason he can't really explain. "He can't come; he's not a part of this. He could ruin everything."

"Mikey, he's our friend. He was Gerard's friend too. He has every right to come."

"What if he gets hurt? What if he gets someone killed? He's not prepared for this, not like we are."

"He could be useful. He's so stubborn he could probably stake a vampire just by looking at it, by pure will," Ray says, smiling a little too himself. Mikey just scoffs at him.

"I could do that. It's not about being stubborn. It's magic. Are you telling me he's got a secret little hobby?"

"He's tried a little, yeah," Bob says, venomously. "Besides, he and I have some friends in Chicago that we could probably stay with. They know him a lot better, so it would be best if he came with us."

"Oh fucking fine!" Mikey slams a wrapped up fist down on the table with a soft thump, his face screwing up in pain from the collision of his fist and the wood. "Just remember I told you so if he causes any trouble."

Bob just rolls his eyes, and Mikey continues, "We're leaving tomorrow."

"No, we're not," Ray protests immediately and Mikey sends him a glare. "We won't be ready tomorrow. Just one more day would be really helpful." He holds a hand up as Mikey opens his mouth to speak. "Besides, tomorrow is Sunday and there might not be that many flights available on such a short notice."

"So we leave on Monday, then. Great," Bob says, and Mikey knows there's no use in protesting. They're probably right about the flights anyway, and even if they left tomorrow with the car they wouldn't get there much sooner.

"I'll book the flight," Pete volunteers, and then adds, "You talk to your friends, let them know we're coming."

"Alright," Bob replies as him and Ray stands up, signaling the ending of the meeting. "See you tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Mikey says, waving vaguely at Ray and Bob as they leave, Pete walking them to the door. He doesn't have anything else to say, he never does nowadays, especially not after meetings.

He just feels so empty. Especially now that all hope of ever finding Gerard has been extinguished.

He taps a rhythm against the table, increasing the pace with every other repetition until his fingers hurt.

_Dam. Da da da da da dam. Da da da da da dam. Da da da da da dam. Dam._ Repeat.

It's all he can hear, the tapping. It's ringing in his ears and vibrating through his body, echoing inside him. It never ends, it just goes faster and faster. Harder.

Then Pete's hand on top of his makes it stop. He feels the warmth of Pete's hand against the back of his own, through the bandages, and the coolness of the table against his palm. They stay like that for a while, Mikey isn't sure how long, and then Pete moves away.

Mikey can hear him pull out their shared laptop and sit down on the loveseat, presumably to book those airline tickets. Mikey stays put, just listening to the steady tapping of fingers against the keyboard.

He looks around the room, the tiny studio apartment that Pete and he have been sharing for just over a year. Before that it was just Pete's. He looks from the small kitchenette in one corner, to the bed in the next one, before turning his head to look at Pete and the loveseat in the third corner. Then his eyes fall on the bathroom door, and the closet door, and then the front door. The table is in the middle of the room, and there are a few bookcases and bureaus along the walls.

It is too small for two people, but they can't afford anything bigger, and Mikey is not moving back in with his parents, so they make it work.

The tapping in the background stops, and Mikey can feel Pete look up at him, but he's facing away so their eyes don't meet.

"We leave at six in the morning," Pete says, and Mikey nods absently. That's good, he thinks. It means it will be light out when they land.

"Mikey, why don't you get some sleep?" Pete says softly, and Mikey can hear him set the laptop aside and get up. "You look exhausted; you need to rest before we go to Chicago."

"No, I should study. I need to do some more reading on those spells. I don't have time—" Mikey says, but Pete interrupts him, placing both hands on his shoulder.

"You do have time. You can read about those goddamn spells tomorrow, when you've slept."

Mikey turns a little on the chair, and Pete moves so they're facing each other. "Pete, I can't just waste time sleeping. What if I miss something important?" Mikey pleads with him, but Pete won't hear it.

"Mikey, baby... Why won't you come to bed with me?" Pete asks softly, kneeling in front of him and it's so much like the first time they kissed.

It's been almost two years, but Mikey remembers it perfectly. It was in the middle of the night, at a graveyard where Mikey had been spending every night for the last two months. Someone had given them a lead saying that Frank would be there, but he never showed up. Still, Mikey wouldn't give up, so he sat there, night after night, waiting.

One night, Pete came and sat there with him. He sat there next to him until Mikey broke down, telling him that maybe it wasn't real, maybe it was all just in his head, in their imagination. Then, he had slid down on his knees on the ground in front of Mikey and just held his hands for a while.

When Mikey had finally shut up, Pete had just leaned forward and pressed his lips against Mikey's, and said, "Let's go home."

"Pete," Mikey says, back in the apartment. "I'm scared," he admits, looking down at his patched up hands until he sees Pete's hands gripping them, linking their fingers together.

"I know," the older boy says, lifting a hand to Mikey's face and directing him to meet his eyes. "Let me help you." Pete lifts one of Mikey's hands to his lips and kisses the tips of his fingers.

"Let me help you."

*

**Friday, January 21st, 2011**

By the end of the week, Gerard was crushing hard on Frank.

They went to Bachmeier's every night that week, and the guys didn't hesitate before pushing Gerard towards the bar to get their drinks, even though Brian, who wasn't a blushing tomato, was with them for most nights.

"I'll have six beers," he told Frank who had been working every night and always answered Gerard's order with a huge, beautiful grin that Gerard knew he talked about way too much. _("Yes, Gerard, we have seen him smile," Pete would finally say after several minutes of Gerard going on about it. "We saw it the last time you asked, and the time before that.")_

"Hey, do you want an extra? Or one of those on me?" Frank asked, just like he had every other night, and just like usual, Gerard regressed to a stuttering fool.

"I— Uh, no thanks, I'll pay for them, it's no problem." He wasn't sure why Frank always wanted to give him one for free, but it made him feel shy and nervous and as if he wasn't really supposed to be there. He usually managed to say a firm "No thanks," though, and Frank would let it go.

"It's not a problem for me either, doll," Frank said and fixed him with his shimmering honey eyes. It felt like they could see straight through him, like they penetrated his skin and saw into his deepest secrets.

"Just take it," Frank said, taking the money Gerard held out but handing back too much change. "Before I change my mind." He raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow and Gerard swallowed hard, because that was just fucking _hot_.

"Oh, uh, thanks," he muttered, taking the tray and returning to the corner booth.

He was met with an almost perfectly synchronized eye roll from Mikey and Pete, and Ray saying, "Well, if you could just form and finish a whole sentence in his presence, you might actually have a shot."

"And try to dim down the tomato, if possible," Brian added, reaching out for a bottle and taking a swig before Gerard has even sat down.

"Just shut up, okay?" Gerard said, glaring down at the table as he sat down next to Mikey. "A guy like him would never be into me anyway. He's probably even straight. I mean, how many gay guys have you seen with ink like that?"

"Dude, he said you were cute," Pete said.

"And, I might have heard him wrong, but didn't he just call you 'doll'?" Mikey added.

"Not to mention that he's always trying to give you free beer and is obviously _flirting_ with you," Bob finished, but Gerard just rolled his eyes.

"To sell more beer. All bartenders do that. It's part of their job. It's not like he means it." Gerard curled his fingers around his beer bottle, picking at the label, before picking it up and taking a swig. "He might even be making fun of me. I'm just a kid, for God's sake. What would he want with me?" he said miserably, hunching in his seat and suddenly wishing he was somewhere else.

Mikey just shoved him lightly in the shoulder and hissed, "Fucking look at the guy, Gee!"

Gerard did. He turned his head back towards the bar and Frank, and just looked for a moment. Frank was smiling his irresistible smile, talking to a customer as he handed over a tall glass of some colorful drink. Gerard looked at his arms, which were bare so that all of his tattoos were visible, and Gerard felt a sudden urge to trace every single one of them with his fingers, and his tongue. His arms were muscular and strong looking, and the black, sleeveless shirt he was wearing really didn't make the look any less mouthwatering.

Gerard sighed, just as he was about to turn back to face the table, because yeah, he was looking alright, and what he saw was a guy he would never get to touch. Frank was so far out of reach it wasn't even funny. And sure, Gerard talked about him all the time, but Frank was the kind of guy you talked about without having any realistic expectations of actually dating.

Then Frank turned his head towards Gerard, and their eyes met. Gerard blushed because he had been caught looking—it was kind of obvious since he had turned away from the table to do it—but Frank just smiled that award winning smile and winked at him.

Gerard thought he was going to die.

*

**Tuesday, January 25st, 2011**

"Ugh, that was a fucking nightmare," Gerard complained when he finally left the Biology classroom after a long hour of a test on what he liked to call 'vital organs and shit'. Ray groaned in agreement next to him.

"Why do we even need to know this stuff? Isn't it enough to know that we have a heart, it pumps blood around and we live?" Gerard waved his hands emphatically as he talked and made his way toward their lockers. "It's not like I'm gonna be a doctor or anything."

"That's true," Bob replied, appearing next to them as he came from another classroom. "You're too stupid to be a doctor."

"Thanks, Bob, now I feel better," Gerard said, not sounding as sarcastic as he'd like to. He was too tired after staying up all night studying for the goddamn test after having been to Bachmeier's first.

"I want a beer," he said after a moment, just as they reached their lockers.

"Of course you do," Bob snorted, shoving his books inside. "But you only want it so that you can ogle at Frank."

"No, I don't!" Gerard exclaimed, a little too loudly, just as the basketball team walked past them in the hallway, sending him a glare. "I don't," he said again, lowering his voice to avoid unwanted attention.

"You keep telling yourself that, Mr. I-spent-the-entire-lunch-period-writing-Frank's-name-in-my-notebook-and-then-doodled-hearts-and-flowers-around-it," Bob replied in a loud whisper, thankfully talking so fast no one around them could hear what he said.

*

That night Gerard actually convinced Brian to get the drinks. He just wasn't in the mood for semi-talking to Frank, or making a fool out of himself and blushing like a little girl, or half-heartedly saying thanks but no thanks to Frank's attempts to give him an extra beer on the house. Or on him, or whatever.

Gerard didn't like to think about beer on Frank, because... Images. Images that were not appropriate for public places.

"He gave us an extra beer for free!" Brian said gleefully when he returned to the booth, but Gerard couldn't help but groan. "He said it was for 'Barney', though, so here you go, Gee." He put two bottles in front of Gerard, who felt an intense urge to smash them over Brian's head.

"Couldn't you have just said no?" Gerard whined, not sure what to do because, yeah, Frank doing all of this was kind of cool, but it was also kind of creepy. Gerard was still convinced he couldn't be meaning it _in that way_.

"He said if you didn't want it you could go tell him yourself."

Gerard thought about getting up to return it, he wanted to, kind of, but he was sitting in the corner of the booth and for him to get out both Bob and Ray would have had to get up too, and that would have brought too much attention to them. Also, if he got up and returned, it he would have to talk to Frank and probably tell him why he didn't want it. He was already embarrassed enough as it was.

"Hey, you said you wanted a beer this morning. Now you have two," Ray said, and Gerard nodded slowly.

"Doesn't anyone else want it?" Gerard asked. "You know, him being so specific about it being for me could be a bad thing. Maybe he's trying to drug me or something?"

"God, Gerard, just admit it. You like the attention," Mikey said, sighing exasperatedly. "Now drink your beer. Frank is looking, by the way, and if you don't drink it you're going to hurt his feelings and he'll think you don't like him."

"Fuck you," Gerard replied, and with that he grabbed the beer and downed a third of it in one go.

*

**Friday, January 28th, 2011**

"There's been another vampire murder," was the first thing Mikey said when Gerard appeared in the kitchen on Friday morning.

"It's not vampires," Gerard replied in what would have been a sing-song voice if he hadn't been grumpy and in need of coffee. "Vampires don't exist."

"Sure they do," Mikey answered lightly. "You're obviously one, since if you had been able to look at yourself in the mirror, you would have dressed better." He glanced over at Gerard's washed out black hoodie and jeans with a frown on his face.

Gerard opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Mikey continued, "Also, if you could see your own reflection you might have a reason to stay in the bathroom longer which could potentially lead to showering."

"I shower! Twice a week," Gerard exclaimed. He poured himself some coffee and drank it black, shuddering as it burned his throat.

"And how often do you wash your hair?" Mikey asked, shoving his glasses back up his nose from where they had slipped down.

"If I wash it too often, the color fades really fast," Gerard defended himself, and Mikey shrugged.

"Whatever. The point is there's been another vampire murder. I wonder when they'll call in the FBI." Mikey took a sip of his own coffee, and he looked strangely grown up as he sat by the table reading the newspaper.

"You watch too much TV," Gerard said with a sigh before taking his coffee and going back downstairs.

*

"So you can't go out tonight?" Gerard asked, leaning against his locker and looking miserably at Ray and Bob as if they had just told him that he was going to die, not that their parents had decided to have dinner together tonight.

"Sorry, Gee," Ray said, looking really apologetic, as if he was doing it for both of them. He probably was, seeing as Bob didn't seem sorry at all.

"Look at the bright side, Gerard," Bob said, "Now you can go to Bachmeier's and make moon eyes at Frank all you want and no one will disturb you."

Gerard just glared at him whilst thinking that he wanted to hate Mikey and Pete for going to the movies that night. He also wanted to hate the movie theater for not having any tickets left. It was some new film, apparently. Gerard hadn't even heard of it.

"Who's Frank?" a vicious voice whispered from just behind Gerard, causing him to jump and shut his locker door.

"No one," he said, speaking too fast and lowering his gaze to the floor where he could see Gabe Saporta's dirty sneakers.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Gabe asked, dragging out the last word as he leaned in closer. "Or maybe he just lets you suck him off because you're so fucking pathetic. A disgusting fag, that's what you are," he finished and walked off after shoving Gerard against the lockers.

Gerard could hear snickering and high-fiving and looked up to see William Beckett smirking at him.

"You know what I think," Bob said as they started walking to class. "I think that whenever they are alone, Saporta and Beckett are going at it like bunnies." His tone was completely casual, as if he had just commented on the cold weather, and Gerard had to look at him, had to see if Bob had really just said that.

"Oh yeah, thanks, Bob. I really needed those mental images," Ray groaned and covered his eyes as if that was going to help. Gerard tugged at his arm when he was close to walking straight into a door post.

"You're welcome, Toro. I'm just trying to cheer Gerard up, but it's nice to know that you appreciate it, too." He patted Ray's back, and Ray, who still had his eyes covered, dropped his books on the floor. He finally removed his hand when he had tried to sit down but missed the chair.

"You know, it's fine, guys. That you can't hang out tonight, I mean. It's not the end of the world," Gerard said, trying to sound mature and strong. He wasn't sure how well he was doing, though. He didn't feel mature or strong at all. "I'll just stay at home by myself and watch movies or something. Maybe draw some shit. I don't know."

"Sure, Gee, that sounds good," Ray replied in a rather comforting voice just as the class was about to start.

*

When Gerard got home after school, he hung out with Mikey for a while at first, and then they had dinner with their parents. After that Mikey left to go to the movies with Pete, leaving Gerard with nothing to do.

He figured he could watch a movie, but then he didn't know what to watch and he wasn't really in the mood to watch one anyway, so he decided not to. Then he thought he'd go into Mikey's room and play some video games, but he couldn't decide which one to play, so he went back to his own room in the basement and just sat and stared at the walls for a while.

The thing is, he knew what he wanted to do, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was too convinced that it was a dumb idea and that he'd only make a fool of himself if he did.

He wanted to do what Bob had said. Well, kind of. He didn't want to go to Bachmeier's to make moon eyes at Frank without anyone getting in the way or making fun of him, but to maybe get a chance to talk to Frank some more.

However, taking his own social skills into consideration, Gerard knew that he wouldn't be able to make small talk or carry on a conversation with Frank anyway, so he didn't go. Instead, he decided to listen to music, but when he couldn't settle on a CD to put on, he just left it and sat on his bed in the silence.

He picked up a sketchbook and a pencil and started drawing, not really knowing what until it took the shape of a face. A face with a smallish, round nose, a pretty smile and perfectly arched eyebrows. Gerard groaned and flipped the page, starting over with another drawing, this time determined not to draw Frank.

He wasn't _that_ pathetic. He really wasn't.

The next thing he drew ended up being a corpse, although it lay mostly in shadow and only the neck was clearly visible so it probably didn't have to be, but Gerard thought so. It had the puncture wounds on the neck, just like the dead bodies Gerard had drawn a few weeks back, when the first bodies had been found.

The wounds were perfect. Two rather small holes, probably made with a pretty long needle, at least in Gerard's mind it was as he had never liked needles, separated from each other by just an inch or so. He added a few drops of blood, just for show; he didn't really think there would be any spilled blood after such a perfect crime.

When he felt like he was done, he signed the page because he was actually quite happy with the drawing, and then he turned the page and drew another dead body, this time doing the whole thing. He shaded most of it, just doing the silhouette, before adding a suspicious looking character next to it. He made it dark, as if it was trying to blend in with the shadows, but the face was still visible. It still looked anonymous, though, and he wasn't really sure what to do with it.

Then he thought about Mikey, and about Mikey's theory, which Pete completely agreed with and started arguing about whenever the subject was brought up. As if to humor them, he drew a pair of comical looking vampire fangs.

It looked really stupid, but Gerard liked it because it was just supposed to be funny, and he really couldn't wait to show Mikey, who would show Pete, who would start arguing about when they'd all go out on a vampire hunt like in Buffy. Gerard sighed, smiling to himself, and flipped yet another page.

He let his hand take him wherever it wanted to go now, and even when he found himself sketching the outline of Frank's body, he continued. He hadn't seen a lot of Frank below the waist as the bartender was mostly hidden by the tall counter, but he had seen him move around the room a few times, collecting empty glasses and wiping off tables. He drew what he could remember, though, which was a great body.

Frank was short, maybe even a little shorter than Gerard who had never been very tall himself, but he carried himself in a way that made him seem taller. The way he was always flirting made Gerard feel inferior to him, and whenever he wore a sleeveless shirt and showed off his muscular arms and hot tattoos, it made him look tougher than guys who were almost twice as tall as him. For a small guy, he definitely knew how to take up space.

That wasn't all, though. Frank was really good looking in general. Whenever Gerard had seen his legs he had been wearing tight jeans that came a little loose around his calves, but hugged his hips, thighs and ass in this way that made Gerard's knees feel weak.

He had really nice hips, a gorgeous ass, and these little love handles that Gerard could always just make out under his shirt. He blushed every time he noticed them, not because he thought they were ugly in any way, but because of how he wanted to touch them.

It was just that, Frank looked so good, he looked amazing, and Gerard really, _really_ wanted him, and he wasn't really good at admitting that to himself. He could tell Mikey and the others about how hot Frank was, only to shoot himself down and say that he's unworthy, but he'd never say to himself that he wanted Frank to just kiss him, or to touch him.

He realized as he was shading Frank's chest, though, that by doing that he was admitting to himself that he wanted Frank, that he wanted to touch those gorgeous pecs he could make out through the tight t-shirt that sketch-Frank and sometimes real Frank was wearing. He wanted to squeeze those love handles and, most of all; he wanted to kiss that amazing smile of his.

Also, he wanted to see Frank, the real Frank, right now.

When he arrived at the bar, it was almost ten thirty, and as it was a Friday night the place was pretty packed. By some miracle, it seemed like a small group of people were leaving just as he stepped inside, though, so the corner booth where Gerard and his friends could usually be found was empty for him to claim.

He dropped his coat on the seat, hoping that no one else would take it, and grabbed some money before stepping up to the bar and Frank, who seemed as if he had been following Gerard with his gaze ever since the teenager set foot in the bar.

"You're here alone?" he asked, sounding a little surprised as he raised one of his perfect eyebrows. "Or are you meeting someone? Do you have a date?" His eyes were gleaming, and he smirked as Gerard's cheeks flushed red, feeling more nervous and stupid by the second.

He shouldn't have come. That's what he had told himself earlier that night because he knew how it would end, and now there he was, making a fool out of himself without even having any friends there with him to fall back on. It would just be him, in that booth and Frank would watch him and probably laugh at him.

"I'm, uh, yeah, I'm here alone," he stammered, fumbling with the money in his hands and looking down. "Just, uh, thought it'd be more interesting to hang out here than at home, you know?"

"Yeah, sure," Frank nodded, smiling and looking expectantly at Gerard before asking, "So, you want your usual?"

Gerard face-palmed mentally at his own stupidity and general slowness, but nodded, "Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I was just," _lost in my thoughts about how gorgeous your smile is and how big a loser I am._ He did not say the last part out loud.

"Hey, it's cool," Frank replied easily, grabbing a beer for Gerard and taking the cap off. "It's not like I don't know what you usually drink. I mean, you are one of my favorite customers." Frank winked at him and Gerard wanted to sink through the floor, his face felt so hot.

"I can't give you an extra for free tonight, though," Frank continued seriously, and Gerard looked at him intently, wondering why Frank suddenly couldn't force free drinks onto him anymore, but then the bartender cracked up. "You drinking two beers all by yourself would just look sad."

"Oh," Gerard said when he finally grasped what Frank had said. Then, he even managed a small smile in return.

"Might join you for one later, though." Frank grinned as Gerard handed the money over, and he just kind of froze with his hand in the air.

"Oh," he said again, a little louder and more awkward. Frank smirked.

"Yeah. See you later, 'Barney'," he finished, and Gerard unfroze, turning away as another customer stepped up to Frank.

He wasn't sure how he managed to get back to the booth without stumbling or walking into anything, because he wasn't looking where he was going. The only thing he could think about was Frank saying he might join him, and the mental image his brain had provided of Frank cornering him in the booth before kissing him senseless. It was just there, Gerard couldn't help it.

He thought about it as he sat down, thought about Frank sliding in next to him, sitting close and maybe putting an arm around his waist, or maybe a hand on his knee. Then he might put a hand on Gerard's cheek, and they'd stare into each other's eyes for a moment, and then Frank would lean in and press his really, really soft lips against Gerard's. It would start out slow, and then it would get more heated, and Gerard wouldn't be an awkward beginner at all. He would be like a pro, and Frank would be really impressed, and then they'd make out all night long, in that booth.

Only Frank would probably not even come over. It was a line, Gerard reminded himself. It was only a line that Frank told him because flirting sold more booze, or whatever. He was a bartender and it was a Friday night and he was busy working. He wouldn't have time to hang out with Gerard. He wouldn't even want to.

Gerard sighed at his own hopelessness and dug his sketchpad and pencil out of one of his huge coat pockets, ready to pass some time. At least this way he wouldn't look like a loser with a crush on the bartender who was just sitting there, not doing a thing. Instead, he was going to be a loser with a crush on the bartender who was drawing pictures of said bartender.

Gerard was a creep. He had never felt like it before in his life, but at that moment he knew he was. He had been called a freak plenty of times, mostly by the guys on the basketball team, who Gerard realized were sitting just a few booths away, but he had never felt like a freak like that. He was a fag, sure, and he dressed weird and was socially awkward and liked horror movies and comics, but he wasn't a freak.

Now, he was a creep, though.

He didn't actually draw Frank. It felt too awkward to do it with him right there, and he just couldn't do it, even when he tried, so he ended up doodling random stuff and drawing a whole lot of more vampires, much like the first one, with huge fangs that didn't really fit the face.

Not drawing Frank didn't mean that he wasn't staring at him a lot, though, because he totally was. He was looking at Frank as the bartender mixed drinks, handed out beers and stacked clean glasses on the shelves behind him. He watched as he came out from behind the bar to collect empty bottles and glasses, a dish towel hanging out of his back pocket, looking sexy in a really bizarre way.

There was the strip of skin being revealed when Frank leaned forward to wipe a table off, and Gerard almost choked on his own spit, he was drooling so much. After that, he focused a bit more on his sketching, not wanting to be caught staring, or drooling, so he wasn't really aware of what was going on when someone sat down at the other side of the table, sliding a bottle of beer over to him.

"What are you drawing?" a voice asked, and Gerard looked up, startled. "Sorry," Frank laughed softly. "I didn't mean to scare you." He lifted his bottle to his mouth and drank some, and Gerard couldn't help but notice the way his lips curled around the dark glass.

"Oh, you didn't," he replied, a moment too late. "I mean— I wasn't really expecting... it, I mean, you. I mean—" he stopped himself, glancing down at the vampires in his sketchpad and then reached out for his beer, feeling the growing need for some more alcohol in his system.

"Well, I said I'd join you, didn't I?" Frank smiled his infamous smile, and Gerard could only stutter out a "Yeah, of course, but—" before Frank asked again, "What are you drawing? Can I see?"

Frank reached out across the table before Gerard had answered, but he looked up, waiting for an okay before grabbing it. "Sure," Gerard finally said, pushing the pad towards Frank's awaiting fingers, momentarily forgetting about the drawings of Frank that were still in there.

The last one he had been working on was another vampire one, but this one wasn't the silly kind that he had drawn for Mikey. It was a better looking one, like, Anne Rice inspired. It was dark and mysterious, with black eyes and pointy fangs, and Gerard could see Frank raise an eyebrow at it.

Gerard had learned by that point that there were a few different ways in which Frank could raise his eyebrows. The most common one was in the flirtatious way, and then there was the impressed way, and this one, that Frank was doing now, was the bewildered one. Or maybe it was a mix between the impressed and bewildered ones, because Frank was saying, "Wow, this is really good."

Gerard flushed a little, but Frank didn't look up to see it. Instead, he was flipping pages, looking at more of Gerard's drawings, grinning. "These are awesome. I mean, just, wow." He finally looked up to meet Gerard's eyes, and for once, he didn't blush. He just smiled.

"Thanks," he said softly, and Frank grinned back before turning back to the drawings. That's when he finally reached the full body drawing of him, and Gerard could see it on his face: this time when his eyebrows arched, it was in pure bewilderment.

He didn't say anything, for which Gerard was grateful. Instead he just turned the page and said, "There's a lot of vampires in this." He looked amused, and Gerard wasn't sure why.

"Yeah, uhm. You see, my brother has this thing for vampires, and like, he and his best friend seem to think that the creepy murders that have been happening lately have been vampire feedings or whatever. It's really stupid."

"Really, vampires? In Belleville?" Frank asked mockingly, but Gerard could tell he wasn't making fun of him, only Mikey, because Frank was smiling at him like he knew Gerard disagreed with the vampire theory.

"Apparently," Gerard said, grinning and for the first time feeling as if he was on the same level of being as Frank. They were joking together, having fun, and Gerard didn't feel like he was being made fun of, which was incredibly rare.

"So what do you think?" Frank asked suddenly, but Gerard wasn't sure about what. "About the murders?"

"I don't know," he replied, taking a swig of his beer. "Maybe some psycho did it, or whatever. It could be a cult. I'm pretty sure it's not some imaginary creature of the night, though," he finished with a laugh, and Frank nodded.

"No, I think you nailed it with 'some psycho'." They both grinned, but the conversation dropped, and they just sat in silence for a while, drinking their beer.

Then, Gerard realized that they were at Frank's workplace, and that Frank was supposed to be working, but still, he was just sitting there with Gerard.

"Uhm, shouldn't you be working, or something?" he asked awkwardly after another moment of contemplating it. Frank just grinned at him.

"No, I'm off." Gerard smiled back, his heart maybe beating a little faster because Frank was off work, and he was still sitting there, talking to Gerard. "I'm just supposed to put the chairs up and lock the place up, then I can go home," Frank continued, confusing Gerard, which apparently showed. "You know we closed about an hour ago, right?"

Gerard didn't know, and if his face had been red in front of Frank before, it was now turning purple. He was so embarrassed. Had he really been so deeply engrossed in his sketching that he hadn't noticed everybody else leaving the place? Had he been so lost in the fact of Frank talking to him like a normal person that he hadn't realized that the place was empty except for the two of them?

"Oh, oh God, I'm sorry, I should leave," he said, running a hand through his hair as he stood up. "Fuck, I'm— You should have told me."

"No, hey, it's okay," Frank was saying, standing up as well, but Gerard still felt like a complete ass. "I wanted to talk to you, to get to know you. You can stay a while, if you want to."

"No, uh, I'm sorry, I— I need to go. It's late," he said weakly, but Frank nodded, handing over Gerard's sketchpad.

"Yeah, you're right. It is late. I'm sorry, I should have said something," Frank said, watching Gerard put his coat on. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Gerard said, then blushed. "Thanks for the beer, and the compliments." He was smiling, though, and Frank grinned back, shaking his head as he waved him off.

It was cold outside, especially compared to how warm it had been inside the bar, and Gerard pulled his coat closer, zipping it all the way up and huddling in under the hood as he started walking.

It was unusually quiet on the street, but he figured that that could be because he wasn't usually out at this time of night, at least not alone. He would usually be with the guys, and they'd all make enough noise to drown out everything around them.

Now there was nothing but the crunch of Gerard's shoes as he walked over the icy sidewalk. He didn't like the sound, because it seemed like it echoed around him, and it made all these horror movie scenarios pop up in his head.

The cold wind was biting at his exposed cheeks, and he tried to pick up his pace, but then there was an unexpected shove at his shoulder, and someone was pulling at his collar. He stumbled, almost falling face first into whoever was gripping his coat, but then a fist connected with his face and he fell in a completely different direction.

His bare palms broke the fall against the asphalt, scraping the skin, but he felt his cheek connect with something sharp just as a foot connected with his ribs. He looked up for a second and realized that he had been dragged away from the street and into an alley.

For some reason, the first thing that came to his mind was, _'Oh fuck, they're gonna pierce my neck with some huge needle thingy and drain all my blood,'_ but then a familiar voice said, "Hey fag, where's your boyfriend?"

Beckett.

Another foot met his chest, and a loud, Goofy-like laughter rang through the air, and Gerard knew it was the Butcher, yet another basketball player. Gerard wasn't sure what his real name was, only that he had acquired his nickname this one time when he beat up some kid so badly that the kid had been in the hospital for weeks, maybe even months. He was in fights all the time, but never got suspended because he was on the school's only good sports team.

However, he didn't usually take part in picking on Gerard, which could only mean that this time they weren't joking around. They wanted to hurt him.

"Was it fun, Way?" Saporta went on, taking over after his supposed fuck buddy, and grabbed Gerard by the collar again, lifting his upper body up off the ground. "Was it good? Did he fuck you really good? Did you beg for it?" His spit was flying into Gerard's face, and his breath stunk of alcohol.

Gerard suddenly remembered seeing them at Bachmeier's and realized that they were all probably shitfaced. He also realized that they must have seen him staring at Frank, and possibly that he had still been sitting at his table when everyone else was told to leave.

They thought him and Frank—

That thought was interrupted by Saporta's fist flying into Gerard's face, hitting the side of his nose. It wasn't a good punch, and didn't hurt too much, but he could feel blood dripping out as he was let back down on the ground.

Someone kicked him in the back, and then in the stomach before another voice yelled, "What the hell is going on here?" It was a familiar voice, but Gerard knew that it wasn't anyone from school. It took him a second to place it, but then he knew. It was Frank.

It was Frank and he was going to get his ass kicked. Gerard heard someone else shout in pain, though, and then Saporta screamed and fell to his knees. From what Gerard could see, he was doubling over, hands clasped over his crotch. Seconds later someone was helping him up, and they were running away, the pained sounds gone.

Only Frank and he were still there, Gerard curled up on the ground until Frank extended a hand for him which he gladly took. He wiped his hand under his nose quickly, the blood not even running anymore, but when he looked up at Frank, the older man was still looking at him strangely.

"What?" he asked, wondering if he had shit on his face or something. It would have been just his luck to fall face first into a pile of dog shit and not even realize it.

"Oh," Frank said, sounding almost embarrassed. "You're bleeding. Your cheek— It's," he started, but Gerard had already wiped it off with his sleeve. He couldn't even really feel the cut, his cheeks were too cold and numb.

"Uhm, thanks," Gerard said after a long moment of silence. "For, you know, chasing them away. Did you seriously kick Saporta in the nuts?" He couldn't help but ask, and Frank laughed.

"I kicked someone in the nuts. And it's nothing, really. It's not like I could have just let them keep going. I wanted to help you." Frank stepped really close to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Now, you better let me walk you home, because I'm not letting you walk off on your own when those assholes might be waiting at the next street corner. And that cut looks bad." He looked at Gerard's cheek again.

Gerard didn't know what to say, because 1) Frank was standing really close to him and was touching his shoulder, and 2) Frank just asked to walk him home, and possibly to help Gerard clean his cuts and scrapes.

"Okay," he settled on after a moment. Frank smiled, moved, and slid his hand down to the small of Gerard's back, giving him a firm push forward before removing it completely.

"Now, wanna tell me who the assholes were?"

They stepped back out on the street, and Gerard blinked as a car drove by, headlights hitting him in the eyes. Sighing, he said, "They're just some jerks from school." He kicked at a pebble, feeling kind of embarrassed for admitting to Frank that he was being bullied.

"So you're in High School?" Frank asked, and Gerard realized his mistake. His fake ID said that he was twenty-three, not eighteen. Frank laughed when he saw Gerard's panicked expression. "It's okay, I could tell your ID was fake from a mile away. Also, your drawings weren't signed 'Barney', but G."

Frank's voice was soft, and Gerard had to smile a little. "Yeah, my name is Gerard," he said, and Frank smiled at him.

"Good. I'm Frank, in case you didn't know," Frank replied, holding his hand out for Gerard.

"It's nice to meet you, Frank," Gerard said, before giggling stupidly. Frank just laughed along, though, dropping his hand.

Feeling a strong need to change the subject, Gerard asked, "So why do you serve drinks to all the kids in town when you know we all have fake IDs? Won't you get arrested if the cops find out?"

"Not if we say we've been looking at your IDs and not realized they're fake. Most of our customers are underage, and if Bachmeier stopped serving the kids, he would have to shut the place down. He always says that 'in Germany kids drink beer long before they're twenty-one, so they should be able to do it in a German bar as well.'" Frank did a crappy imitation of a German accent, and Gerard laughed.

When they reached Gerard's house, he wasn't really sure what to say or do. He didn't really want to say goodbye, but he couldn't just ask Frank to come inside. It was almost two in the morning, and Frank had to be tired after working all night and then beating up Saporta and the others.

"So, uh. This is it, I guess," he finally said, standing awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, not wanting this to be _it._

"Oh, okay," Frank said, and if Gerard wasn't completely mistaken, he sounded a little disappointed. "Will you be okay? That cut on your cheek really looks awful. I could help you clean it up, if you want," he continued, sounding maybe a little too eager, but Gerard ignored that.

Maybe Frank just wanted to get inside so that they could make out on Gerard's bed, too?

"Uhm, okay. Come on in, then," Gerard said, and Frank beamed and followed him to the basement door.

"Your room is in the basement?" Frank asked, and when Gerard nodded, opening the door, he added, "Cool." Gerard toed off his sneakers and dumped his coat on the old chair by the door, and Frank did the same.

They were in a tiny hallway which was basically just the stairs, a chest of drawers, a chair, and the door to Gerard's bedroom. 

Gerard's room was a mess, with dirty clothes and art supplies strewn across the floor, and he hadn't made his bed that morning. He never did. He flushed a little at the thought of Frank seeing his childish Batman sheets, but Frank didn't comment on it.

Frank actually seemed genuinely interested in cleaning Gerard's cut, so they went straight for the bathroom where Gerard even found some old disinfectant, which he handed to Frank along with some cotton balls and bandages.

He leaned against the sink, slouching a little to get leveled with Frank, who really was a bit shorter than him. Gerard watched him get to work with a determined expression, felt his cold and gentle fingers on his face, and looked at his eyes, but Frank wasn't looking back.

"So, how come you're an expert at cleaning up cuts?" he asked when Frank was getting out a bandage. "Were you a nurse in your previous life?"

Frank laughed. "My mom was."

Gerard held still as Frank put the bandage on his cheek, trying not to think about how close Frank's face was, and how he still wanted Frank to kiss him. "There, all better."

"Thanks," Gerard said, his voice suddenly nothing but a whisper. Frank's hand was still on his face, and they were so close, and it was just so intimate. It was the perfect kissing scenario, but then Frank's hand was gone and he was stepping away.

"No problem," he said, looking at Gerard with curious eyes. "I guess I better go now."

"Yeah," was all Gerard could say. He followed Frank back to the door and told him goodnight again, before closing and locking the door. He felt a little disappointed about the lack of kissing, but the thought of Frank standing so close was kind of awesome anyway.

Just the thought of Frank having talked to him _like a normal person_ was enough to make Gerard's heart beat faster, not to mention the fact that Frank had saved him from his bullies and actually kicked Gabe Saporta in the crotch. Then he had walked him home and cleaned his cut.

Gerard went to bed as soon as Frank had gone, but he couldn't sleep. All he could do was just lie there, thinking about that night and Frank and everything that had happened.

*

**Monday, November 14th, 2016**

Mikey isn't happy when they arrive in Chicago.

He's grumpy after not having slept more than a few hours over the last few days, as well as having been squeezed into a tiny plane for over two hours. The seat had been tiny, and he hadn't been able to stretch his legs out at all. Not to mention the fact that they were seated at the very end of the plane where the engines were really fucking loud, and on top of that he had had Pete snoring in his ear, because Pete could sleep anywhere.

Everyone else seemed to have been sleeping too, early in the morning as it is, and Mikey spent the nearly two hour flight wondering whether he is mostly jealous of the others because they don't worry like he does, or whether he is mostly angry at them because they don't worry like he does.

He still hasn't reached a conclusion when they walk off the plane and through security, all of the other guys still half asleep. Pete is leaning against him as they wait for their suitcases at the baggage claim, and Mikey grumbles to himself that they all need to be more attentive. It's not even seven o'clock in Chicago, it's still dark out and they do not need to be surprised when they step outside.

They should have taken a later flight. If they had just arrived during the day it would have been a lot better, he would have felt safer and the guys would have been more alert and tuned in to what was going on around them. As it is, Bob's eyes are barely open enough for him to spot the green suitcase containing two axes and a whole set of knives and short swords.

Getting that bag through security in Newark had been a nightmare. No one had actually stopped them or commented on what was inside it, but they had been scared to death that they wouldn't be allowed to bring it. Of course they had known that the sharp objects rule only applied to the carry-on luggage, but Mikey worries about everything. He can't stop. He's a nervous wreck.

Everybody seems to wake up a little more when they step outside into the cold November morning air, and Bob and Brian grin eagerly when they spot their friends. They lead the group over to where a large white van is waiting, and two guys get out. One of them is short with glasses and a black cap over his strawberry blonde hair. The other guy is taller and with a dark brown mass of curly hair that from a distance seems even more epic than Ray's.

Brian introduces the guys as Patrick and Joe, and then they all heave their luggage into the back of the van before getting in. Joe drives and Patrick lets Bob have the passenger seat, instead leading the way into the backseat where Pete follows him, tugging Mikey along by the hand.

Mikey can't help but feel a little reluctant as they get into the van with these strangers. It's still dark out, and he really doesn't know anything about Patrick or Joe, and he doesn't like how the backseat is tiny and forces them to sit really close together, yet Pete and Patrick don't seem to mind at all.

He relaxes a little when he feels Pete's hand on his thigh, patting it reassuringly, and rests his head on his boyfriend's shoulder, wondering to himself when he got so tired.

"So, Bob told me you're vampire hunters," Patrick says on the other side of Pete, and Mikey finds himself wanting to laugh at the statement. It's something that he would have said years ago, before all of this happened. When they were all still just High School kids. When living a life that's similar to the Vampire Slayer's was considered the coolest thing ever.

"Oh yeah," Pete replies coolly, though. "We're professionals. What about you?"

Mikey's starting to drift off, the soft rhythm of Pete's breathing lulling him into a comforting sleep. He smiles to himself as he half listens to Pete and Patrick's conversation, loving how different Pete sounds, how he talks like he is sixteen again.

"We're in a band," Patrick replies in the distance, and Pete says, "Cool." After that, Mikey's enveloped in darkness.

*

Pete shakes Mikey awake twenty minutes later, just as Mikey had tripped and fallen in the dark cave in his nightmare, and he smiles at Pete, happy that the dream has been interrupted.

"Come on," Pete urges him out of the vehicle, and they look up at a pretty big house, painted a dark blue. Everyone else seems to have already gone inside with the bags and suitcases, and Mikey latches himself onto Pete's hand as they walk in through the door. He doesn't feel safe here, doesn't feel like he can fully trust Patrick and his other friends.

Pete is his safety net, and although Mikey hasn't really needed it lately, he does now.

*

**Saturday, January 29th 2011**

"So what you're saying is that he floored the entire basketball team all by himself?" Bob asked in a slightly skeptical tone, exchanging glances with Brian and Ray.

They were all sitting around the table in Ray's kitchen, clutching coffee mugs in their hands as Gerard kept telling and re-telling all of last night's events.

"Yes!" Gerard almost shouted, probably a little too gleefully. "Or, well, no. He didn't exactly floor all of them, but I think he punched someone in the face, and then he kicked Gabe Saporta in the crotch." Brian gave an impressed nod, and Gerard added, "He was crying like a baby."

"What about Frank?" Ray asked, and Gerard blushed, glancing down at his coffee.

"He was amazing."

*

Later that night they were sitting at their usual table at Bachmeier's, Gerard facing the bar, for once, and since they had sat down he hadn't been able to take his eyes off of Frank for even a second.

Gerard had gotten them all their drinks, taking the opportunity to even talk to Frank a little, who had asked how his cheek felt. Gerard hadn't even blushed, not much anyway, but just grinned and said that his cheek was fine because it had been well taken care of.

Frank had grinned back and given him a free beer, which Gerard hadn't even protested against and, when Gerard handed over money for the other five beers, their fingers brushed and Gerard couldn't help but shiver and flush a soft red.

"Did I tell you about how he kicked Saporta in the nuts?" Gerard said out of nowhere, staring off towards the bar where Frank was pouring vodka into shot glasses. He looked amazing doing it, just like he looked amazing doing everything, and Gerard couldn't look away.

He sighed dreamily, leaning on his elbow, and yelped in surprise when Brian smacked him across the back of his head.

"Yes, you did," Brian replied to Gerard's question. "About ten thousand times."

Gerard just shrugged it off, lifting his beer to his lips and drinking, still eyeing Frank. The bartender looked up at him every now and then; smiling happily and making Gerard feel butterflies in his stomach.

_This has to be what love feels like,_ he thought, smiling back at Frank, looking him up and down. He was wearing a button up shirt; the top buttons undone so that a part of his chest tattoo was visible. He looked fucking edible.

Knight in shining armor love, that's what it was.

"Did I tell you about how sweet and gentle he was when he was cleaning my cut?" Gerard sighed dreamily again, and Mikey groaned across the table.

"Seriously, can you be more of a girl?" Mikey asked his older brother, but Gerard didn't even really hear him. He just watched Frank with a small smile playing on his lips. "You're twirling your hair for Christ's sake!"

"He kicked Saporta in the nuts," Gerard just stated matter-of-factly, as if anyone needed to be reminded.

*

**Tuesday, February 1st 2011**

"Do you think he's gonna ask me out?" Gerard asked his brother over breakfast, which consisted of a lot of coffee and maybe half a piece of toast. Before Mikey had even had a chance to reply, Gerard continued, "Maybe I should ask him out? Do you think he'd say yes if I did?"

Just as Mikey was about to open his mouth to answer him, their mother walked in and he dutifully kept his mouth shut. It wasn't that Mrs. Way wasn't accepting of her son's sexuality, because she totally was, but Gerard didn't need her to interfere any more than any teenager needed their mom to get involved in their love life.

When she had gotten the coffee refill that she had come for, she left again, but Gerard had new things to add, and still didn't let Mikey talk.

"He has to be a lot older than me, right? I mean, he has to be at least twenty-one to work as a bartender, and he's probably even older than that, like twenty-three or twenty-four." Gerard made a short pause to breathe, and then he continued, "What if he thinks I'm just a dumb kid? What if he's just playing around with me? What if he's really not interested?"

"Gerard, I'm sure—"

"What if I ask him out and he says no?" Gerard kept talking, not even hearing what Mikey was trying to say. "What if he laughs? What if he kicks me out of the bar and refuses to serve us beer again?"

Gerard could feel his originally quite easy-going train of thought spiraling out of control, and he wished he had never even thought about asking Frank out. Every time he did he would come to a different horrifying conclusion, like _what if Frank was only after sex,_ or _what if Frank was some crazy psycho who wanted to chop him up and eat him for lunch?_

"What if he doesn't even like me?" Gerard finished despondently, biting of a corner of his toast and glaring at his almost empty coffee mug.

"Gerard," Mikey said loudly, finally getting his brother's attention. "Seriously, Gerard, there is no way in hell that guy is not into you. No way."

Gerard gave him a look of disbelief and got up to get more coffee. "How can you know that?" he asked, feeling a little helpless as he raised the now full mug to his lips and took a sip. "You don't know him."

"No, but I'm not blind, like you appear to be. The way he looks at you is kind of telling," Mikey said, finishing his own coffee and getting up. "He's totally into you, and honestly, if he hasn't asked you out by the end of the week, I'm making you do it."

"What? You can't!" Gerard objected, feeling nervous all of a sudden and wishing he hadn't turned to Mikey for advice. If Mikey said he was going to do something, he was going to do it, and whether it was climbing the old oak tree in their backyard or if it was getting some cheerleader girl to go out with him didn't matter. He'd do it, even if he ended up falling fifteen feet and breaking his arm, which he had on both occasions.

"Gee, he is going to ask you out. I can tell," Mikey said, failing to sound reassuring. "Stop worrying. Act more like a girl and one day you'll wake up with tits and a vagina."

"Hm, fine," Gerard finally agreed, and that was the end of the discussion. Before school, that is.

*

The atmosphere of Bachmeier's was quiet and relaxed that night, with just a few small groups of people gathered around the tables along the walls. Frank wasn't serving any customers at the moment, and Gerard could feel the older man's eyes on him from the very moment he had stepped inside the door.

He looked up and met his eyes with a small smile as him and the others made their way towards their table in the corner. He dropped his coat on the seat before making his way to the bar and Frank, imagining that if things were different, he could maybe lean over the counter and kiss Frank hello instead of just smiling shyly.

He felt like a loser thinking it, but there was no use denying that he wanted to. He wanted to so fucking much.

"Hi," he said, gripping the money in his hand too tightly. He thought about what Mikey had said that morning, about him being able to tell that Frank wanted to ask Gerard out, and he decided that Mikey was an idiot. Frank was way out of his league.

"Hey," Frank grinned, eyes almost sparkling. He got out five beers for Gerard and his friends without Gerard even saying anything, and only let Gerard pay for four. Gerard didn't really mind anymore.

When he gave Gerard his change back, Frank looked as if there was something he wanted to say. Gerard wasn't sure whether he should stay and wait for Frank to spit it out, or if he should just take the beer and head back to the guys.

He waited for about two more seconds, looked up and smiled at Frank and then, when he took a tentative step backwards, Frank finally said, "So, I was kind of thinking that maybe we could go out for coffee?"

Gerard opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again when he realized he didn't know what to say. He just stood there, kind of dumbfounded and wondering if he had imagined it, but Frank was looking at him, expectantly, so he finally came up with a "What?"

"Coffee. You and me," Frank said slowly, his eyes sparkling as they met Gerard's. "You do drink coffee, don't you?"

Gerard felt his face heat up and he nodded quickly, "Yeah." He shot Frank a shy smile and added, "When?"

"I'm off at eleven, so if you wanna stick around we could go then," the bartender offered, a hopeful look in his eyes and saying no wasn't an option for Gerard. Not even as he thought about the History test he had the next morning and that he was supposed to go home and study for.

Turning down one of the hottest guys he had ever seen only to go home and read about the Russian Revolution was just not something that he could do. He couldn't imagine anyone doing that. At least not anyone that was attempting to have a life.

"Yeah, sure," he said, giving a small smile which grew as Frank returned it. "I'll stick around." With that, he turned around and returned to the table, beaming like the fucking sun as he caught Mikey's eyes. He eagerly mouthed "He asked me out!" toward his friends, simply too afraid that he wouldn't be able to keep his voice down so that Frank would hear him.

"Can you believe it?" he said repeatedly once he had sat down and calmed down enough that he could trust his voice. He was still beaming, throwing glances at Frank at every opportunity he had, and he just felt so happy. "I can't believe it, guys. He fucking asked me out!"

"Remember what I told you this morning, Gee?" Mikey asked after ten minutes of Gerard gazing dreamily at Frank, but Gerard just shrugged and kept staring. "Keep acting like this and— Bam! Tits and a vagina."

Ray laughed at him, a little too loudly, which made Frank turn and look over at them. Gerard blushed, but smiled at him.

"You better watch out, Gerard," Bob said. "I mean, by the way things are going it looks like Frank likes dick, not pussy." Ray laughed out loud again, and Gerard really wished he didn't because it stood out extremely well in the unusually quiet bar.

Frank seemed to be laughing quietly to himself, and Gerard hoped it wasn't _at_ him.

"Who knows, maybe Frank thinks Gerard actually is a girl," Pete added to Bob's statement and Mikey snickered.

"God, would you guys please shut up?" Gerard finally snapped, getting really fed up with them interrupted his gazing and smiling and dreaming.

*

The guys all left a while before Frank had said he would get off, Mikey wishing him good luck and Pete telling him to use protection. Gerard blushed at that and couldn't help but feel relieved when they were gone so he could have some quiet time to just think.

He soon wished they were still there, though, as he really could do nothing but just sit there, thinking and doing nothing. He had finished his beer ages ago and as he hadn't gotten another one, he had nothing to drink, and he hadn't brought his sketchpad, thinking that he'd be with Mikey and the others all night.

He ended up keeping himself occupied by watching Frank, which wasn't a bad pastime at all, but it made him feel even more like a stalker than he had the other night when he was just sitting there drawing.

Frank looked up occasionally, locking eyes with Gerard and smiling as if he, too, couldn't wait to get out of there and go for that coffee.

He came over once too, maybe twenty minutes before his shift ended. He had just been wiping off a few tables to Gerard's right, and with the dish rag hanging out of one of his front pockets, he gave Gerard an apologetic smile.

Gerard didn't really see the smile. He was too busy looking at Frank's middle and the bulge the dish rag created in his pocket, not to mention the bulge next to it, the one created by Frank's cock. Gerard fought back the urge to touch and forced his eyes up to meet Frank's.

"Can I get you anything? I'm sorry to keep you waiting like this, I thought your friends were going to stay and keep you company or something," Frank said, waving his hands in the air and shrugging as if he wasn't really sure where he was going with it.

"No, no, it's fine," Gerard replied, maybe a little too fast. "Your shift ends soon anyway, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's just another fifteen minutes or so." Frank glanced towards the wall by the door where a huge, antique-looking watch was hanging, and Gerard followed his gaze, nodding. "Are you sure you don't want anything?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Just, you know... It's fine." Gerard tried to sound reassuring and confident but when he looked up and met Frank's eyes again, he just ended up blushing and smiling. He really wanted to get out of that bar, with Frank, and just go somewhere else where he could at least try to be less awkward.

Maybe they could go and get coffee and then go somewhere else and make out under the stars? Or they could go to Frank's place and make out there. Frank probably didn't live with his parents and little brother like Gerard did.

"Well, if you're sure..." Frank smiled and went back to the bar, leaving Gerard to watch him from afar as butterflies started to flutter around in his stomach. He was getting nervous, almost to the point where he wanted to get up and just leave without even giving Frank an explanation.

He didn't really want to leave, though. He wanted to stay and to go out with Frank; he just didn't want to make a fool out of himself, which he had made a habit of doing whenever Frank was nearby. Even thinking about Friday night and how nice Frank had been, and how surprisingly not awkward the whole thing had been couldn't ease Gerard's nerves, though.

He wanted to be around Frank, he just didn't know how to do that without embarrassing himself.

The last fifteen minutes passed a little too quickly for Gerard, and when Frank disappeared into another room only to emerge a minute later, his heart was pounding so hard he was sure the bartender could hear it. Frank was wearing a black leather jacket now, which Gerard had a vague memory of Frank wearing on Friday night as well.

He scrambled into his own coat and got up awkwardly as Frank came over to him, smiling this smile that made Gerard want to kiss him and run in the opposite direction at the same time.

"Ready to go?" Frank turned a little towards the door, making a little 'after you' motion with his arms and shoulders.

"Yeah, of course," Gerard muttered quietly and lead the way outside, shivering as the cold February night air hit his face and hands. He remembered the leather gloves he had left in his pocket and put them on as Frank stepped out behind him, seemingly not put off by the freezing air.

Smiling sympathetically at Gerard, he said, "I was thinking we could go to this all night diner a few blocks away." Gerard nodded as Frank stuck his hands down in his pockets and started to walk. "They make the most amazing coffee, and muffins, if you're hungry." He turned his head to smile at Gerard, who smiled back. He was hungry.

"That sounds good," Gerard replied.

Frank dug out a pack of smokes from his pocket, offering one to Gerard who declined politely. He didn't mind if other people smoked around him, but he never really did it himself, except for at parties when he had had enough to drink. He had friends who smoked a packet a day, like Bob and Brian, but Gerard had thankfully never gotten hooked.

He didn't have a problem with others smoking, though, and now he was watching Frank light up with a sort of fascinated expression on his face. When Frank looked up, he gave him a weird look and said, "What? You don't mind, do you?"

He was almost about to put the smoke out again when Gerard finally came back to himself and said, "No, no, it's fine. You just—" _look incredibly hot with your lips curled around that cigarette._ He didn't say the last bit out loud, and even kept himself from blushing when he finished with, "I don't mind."

"Good." Frank grinned, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air as he picked up the pace a little. "Come on."

*

Time didn't fly by when they came to the diner. It disappeared.

It was a nice, cozy place and, although Gerard hadn't been there before, he instantly liked it. It was warm and inviting too, and they really did have the best coffee Gerard had ever tasted, as well as these huge chocolate muffins.

They were the only customers, and a young, blonde waitress frowned when they came in, looking up from the magazine she had been reading. Her uniform was full of greasy stains, and the whole place smelled like fried chicken, but Gerard didn't really care. He only had eyes for Frank and, as soon as he had his coffee under his nose, the strong aroma was all he could smell.

They sat there and talked for hours, although it felt like no time was passing by at all. Frank asked Gerard about his drawing, how long he had been doing it and if he wanted to take it further. When Gerard explained how he wanted to go to Art School in New York, Frank told him about his own college experience, which had lasted about six months before he dropped out and decided to join a band.

"You play guitar?" Gerard asked in both surprise and awe. Frank just laughed and said how he wasn't good at all, and that the band had split up after a year and that he had been tending bars ever since, lying about his age for the first few years.

"So don't drop out," he finished, laughing and Gerard couldn't really do anything but beam at him.

Gerard's hand was resting on the table as the conversation went on with Frank telling him about crazy places he had been to and some of the bars he had worked in. Whenever he had something extra important to say, he leaned forward over the table and touched Gerard's fingers, causing the teenager's heart to beat a little faster.

Eventually they came back to Belleville and the present, landing on the subject of vampires, the strange murders, and how there had been another one during the weekend. It wasn't Gerard's favorite subject as Mikey hadn't shut up about it the previous day, which he told Frank who laughed.

"He probably just wants more of those amazing drawings." Gerard flushed at that, and he's not sure he stopped until they went back out in the cold.

"Fuck, it's so fucking late," Gerard said, laughing as he pulled his coat tighter around himself in the cold. "Ha, I was supposed to study for a fucking History test." He put on his gloves and glanced up at Frank who was looking amused.

"Is it good or bad that I kept you from studying?" Frank stepped closer, rubbing his hands together in the cold, and Gerard shuddered at the look Frank was giving him.

"I guess it's bad that I'll fail the test tomorrow, but to be honest I'd probably just have fallen asleep at home anyway. So I guess it's good that the night wasn't a complete waste." His voice was soft, and he was smiling because Frank was really close now and Gerard was fucking ready to be kissed.

Frank was too, Gerard could tell from the way his lips parted just a little bit, and how he was looking intently on Gerard's face and lifting a hand to run his thumb across Gerard's cheek.

"Your cut looks better," he said, and it took Gerard a few moments to fully register what Frank had just said, being too swept up in his thoughts about kissing Frank to remember the almost healed cut on his cheek.

"Yeah, uh. Yeah. It was well taken care of," he said, only feeling a little stupid when Frank grinned at him. He was _sure_ that Frank was going to kiss him then, he was one hundred and ten percent sure of it, but then Frank was grabbing one of his hands and stepping back.

"Come on, I'll walk you home," Frank said, giving Gerard's hand a slight tug. "I wanna make sure you don't get another cut like that." Gerard thought he felt his cheeks flushing, but he couldn't really feel anything in the cold, so he wasn't sure.

"Okay," he muttered and gave a small smile, unable to hold it back as he glanced down to where Frank's hand was holding his in a firm, but gentle grip.

Holding hands meant he was one step closer to kissing Frank, and once again he was completely sure that Frank would be kissing him before the night was over.

They walked in silence, so Gerard could really focus on how Frank's hand felt in his. It was light and relaxed, maybe a little cold. He wished he hadn't been so quick to put his gloves on so that he could feel Frank's skin, and he wondered if Frank wished so too.

He wondered if Frank wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss Frank, and he wondered if Frank was maybe waiting for Gerard to initiate it. Perhaps he wasn't sure if Gerard was ready, or if he really wanted it, which would be crazy considering how Gerard was like an open book with his blushing and stuttering.

He wanted to kiss Frank; he would even make the final move himself if he had to, if Frank let him. What if Frank didn't actually want him to, though? Gerard was so sure he did, he knew that was what he was seeing in Frank's eyes when he was looking at him. Want, and something more, something like hunger. Gerard wasn't sure.

"This is it, right?" Frank asked as they came to a sudden halt in front of Gerard's house. He hadn't even been aware that they had been getting closer; he was so caught up in his thoughts.

"Yeah," he murmured, stepping forward a little and turning so that he was mostly facing Frank. He expected Frank to let their hands drop, but he kept a firm grip on Gerard's hand, and the teenager took a tentative step forward, feeling clumsy and awkward as he looked down to meet Frank's pretty eyes.

They were standing really close, just separated by where their hands were hanging down between them. Gerard could easily have leaned in and pressed his lips to Frank's, but his body wouldn't move. Only his lips would move, and he knew he turned the color of a tomato as he asked quietly, "Can I kiss you?"

Frank didn't laugh at him, but he didn't kiss him or say yes either. "Not tonight, Gerard," he leaned in and whispered in the teenager's ear, brushing his lips against Gerard's cheek, just under the healing cut. Frank's lips felt like ice against his hot face, and Gerard blushed even harder.

A small, disappointed "Oh, okay," slipped out of his mouth, but when Frank pulled back, smiling, Gerard couldn't help but return it. 'Not tonight' wasn't a _no_ , it was a _not yet_.

Gerard could wait for a day, maybe two.

"Goodnight, Frank." He reluctantly let Frank's fingers slip out of his grip, and he was sure he felt the same reluctance in Frank.

"Goodnight, Gerard." Then Frank's hand was gone, and the older man was turning around to leave and walk home to wherever he lived. Gerard looked after him until he turned a corner and disappeared in the dark, and when he finally went inside, he felt strangely empty.

He glanced at his alarm clock and groaned at the numbers reading three twenty-two. Man, he was going to fail his History test so bad, if he even managed to get to school on time.

**Wednesday, February 2nd 2011**

Frank walked Gerard home on Wednesday as well, even if they didn't go out for coffee. He said he wanted to make sure Gerard was safe, and the teenager couldn't really say no to that, even if it meant waiting around for Frank's shift at the bar to end.

Frank held his hand again, and asked about the History test which Gerard had only been able to answer two questions of. He told Frank that he had spent the remaining time drawing a picture of Stalin as a vampire.

Frank didn't kiss him.

*

**Thursday, February 3rd 2011**

On Thursday, Frank asked to walk Gerard home again, and this time Gerard had been expecting it so he brought his sketchpad to keep him entertained when the other guys left.

Frank looked over to him and grinned when Gerard pulled out the pad, so the teenager drew that grin. It was wide and bright, and Frank's eyes were glowing with it and Gerard thought it was really beautiful. He really loved it when Frank smiled, and he wanted to see it all the time.

However, when he drew it, he wanted to change it up a little, and because he still had vampires on his brain he added fangs to Frank's smile. They blended in perfectly with the rest of Frank's teeth, and the bartender ended up looking like a really happy vampire.

Gerard showed it to Frank when his shift was over, and the older man grinned, much like the vampire version of him did in the picture, and asked if he could keep it. Gerard blushed and murmured a low yes, carefully tearing the page out of the sketchpad. Frank pocketed it carefully before they left, and Gerard felt really proud that Frank had liked it so much.

Once they were outside, Frank's fingers found Gerard's almost immediately, and Gerard's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't wearing his gloves this time, and it was really cold, Frank's hand not providing as much heat as Gerard had imagined, but it was definitely worth it. Frank's fingers wouldn't stay still, always tapping Gerard's skin or rubbing his knuckles, and Gerard found himself wondering why.

He was also wondering if tonight was going to be the night they finally kissed, but Frank didn't seem any different than he had the two previous nights. He didn't seem like he was itching to push Gerard up against a wall and kiss him until they were both out of breath.

Gerard really wanted to, though, so when they stopped outside his house and Frank had leant up and kissed his cheek, whispering a soft "Goodnight, Gee," he turned his head just a little to the side and pushed forward so that his lips met with Frank's. He half expected Frank to pull away, surprised by the sudden display of affection, but instead he was pushing forward to meet Gerard.

Gerard had to tilt his head in a really uncomfortable angle, so he pulled back, only to dive right back in again, attacking Frank's mouth from a new angle. He even slipped his tongue inside Frank's mouth, encouraged by a hand on the back of his neck.

He broke away, gasping for air, after what felt like hours of Frank's tongue rubbing against his own, and he was blushing as Frank's hand slid down to cup his cheek. Frank was smiling, still standing really close as he ran his thumb over Gerard's wet lips. "Gee," he started as if he was going to say something, but instead he just leaned in and kissed Gerard again. It was slower than before, without any tongue, and Gerard melted into the touch.

"Goodnight, Gerard," he said when he pulled back again, smiling and licking his lips as Gerard did the same.

"Goodnight." Gerard stuck his hands into his pockets a little awkwardly as Frank started to walk away, but then he called after him, "Hey Frank, do you want to, I dunno, maybe hang out tomorrow? I mean, just watch a movie or something?"

He felt his cheeks flush dark as Frank turned back around, one hand going up to sweep his hair out of his face which held a hint of hesitation. "I have to work," he said, sounding almost as disappointed as Gerard felt.

"What about after?" Gerard asked again, feeling hopeful that Frank would say yes and ignoring the voice in the back of his head that was telling him that he had ruined everything by kissing Frank. After all, they had gone out after Frank's shift on Tuesday, and that had been a weekday, so a Friday night of hanging out and watching movies should be okay. At least in Gerard's head it was.

"Oh, I guess that would be cool," Frank replied, still sounding a little hesitant. "I'll see if I can get out of closing again so that I can get off at eleven. Otherwise I'll be there 'til one am."

"Oh, okay, that sounds good." Gerard nodded eagerly, grinning as the red in his cheeks was fading. "I'll probably be there, so we can talk tomorrow, right?" He actually knew he was going to be there for sure, but added the "probably" to sound like less of a loser and as if he actually had to check with his friends if they had anything better to do.

"Yeah, sure. I'll just see you tomorrow, then." Frank flashed him a bright smile and turned to leave again, and this time Gerard let him.

Once Frank had turned a corner and disappeared out of sight, Gerard went inside feeling lightheaded all of a sudden, and as if he was going to pass out. He hurried inside and lay down on his bed, and only then he realized that he had actually kissed Frank, and that Frank had kissed him back, and that Frank was most likely coming over tomorrow.

_We might kiss again,_ he thought with a wide smile, wanting to feel Frank's lips against his again and again. He wanted to feel his tongue, too, and his hands—his gorgeous, tattooed, strong, but gentle hands—all over his body. He wanted so much, and he was hoping so badly that he wouldn't end up disappointed.

He was just about to fall asleep a while later, still wearing his clothes and lying on top of the covers when it hit him again, that Frank was going to come over. He remembered the last time Frank had been there, thought about the mess his room had been, and realized that he had not cleaned up at all since last Friday.

Groaning, he decided that he'd clean up before going out. Just a little, he didn't want to look like a neat freak, but he also did not want to look like a slob. The least he could do was to change his sheets and make the bed so that if they made out, they could do it on a neat looking bed.

*

**Friday, February 4th 2011**

"Is he staying over?" Pete inquired at lunch, all big, curious eyes and loud whisper.

Gerard just groaned and replied, "I don't know," like he had to pretty much every question he had gotten since he decided to tell the guys about the "maybe date". He was calling it that because he wasn't sure at all that it was going to happen, and the more time that passed the more sure he got that Frank didn't even want to come. He was sure he had misinterpreted the situation and that Frank had really just been trying to find a way out of it.

"Then what do you know?" Mikey asked, looking kind of skeptical but as if he really wanted to help Gerard out. "What exactly did he say?"

Gerard didn't have to think about it for long, he had already replayed all of the previous night's events in his head about a hundred times, so he knew the conversation by heart. "He said he would try and get out of work early so that he could come."

"Do you think he will?"

Gerard looked at his brother and felt a smile tug on the corners of his mouth. "Yeah. I mean, he has gotten off work early all week, I think, so maybe not, but I think that if he really wants to, he can talk Bachmeier into it."

"Good," Mikey said with a smile, right before Pete interjected, "Are you gonna have sex?"

Gerard just kind of blinked at him a few times before Pete added to Mikey, "You can stay at my place if they are. If you want to keep your virgin ears intact." He smirked, and Gerard thought that no one who spent as much time around Pete as Mikey did could still have "virgin ears". If Gerard's grandma was still alive, she'd probably want to wash his mouth out with soap and water.

"Are you gonna have sex?" he asked Gerard again, but Gerard ignored him and gathered his things. He had gotten what he came for, which was Mikey's support.

"See you later, guys." He rolled his eyes at Pete's stupid face one last time and then went to look for Bob and Ray in the library.

*

The bar was almost full that night, and whenever Gerard glanced over towards the bar, Frank looked really busy next to the other working bartender, a tall dark-haired woman called Lindsey. Neither of them seemed to have a quiet moment all night, and Gerard was beginning to think that Frank might not be able to get off early.

Gerard had talked to him earlier when he and the guys first got there, but Frank hadn't found out anything about it because Bachmeier wouldn't come in until later. He had looked hopeful, though, so Gerard decided to be too.

All the guys had stayed to keep him company, and Gerard really felt better about not knowing how the night would end when he at least didn't have to wait to find out alone. Not that they were very good company—Mikey and Pete were discussing the latest video game they had played and Bob and Brian were commenting on every girl in the room's breasts and trying to figure out what cup size they were.

"That's a C, definitely," Bob said, eyeing a tall blonde with an extremely low cut top, not that Gerard was looking. He was just passing time and listening to the discussion with Ray who was a lot more interested than Gerard. He just didn't have enough experience to play "Guess the cup-size" with Bob and Brian.

"Nuh-uh, that's a D, man," Brian objected, taking a swig of his beer. "Might even be a DD. There's no way it's a C, though. No way." He stared at the chick's rack intently, as if the true size would flash across them any second now. "I know my Ds, though."

"I guess that's why you dropped out of school," Gerard couldn't help but say because he finally had something to add. Brian sent him a dark glare, but Gerard didn't care because when he looked back in the direction of the bar, he could see Frank making his way over to their table.

Frank was wearing his leather jacket and Gerard's breath got caught in his throat as he thought _Wait, we're leaving already?"_ He glanced back at the bar and noticed that Bachmeier had taken Frank's place, and then his face was heating up as Frank leaned down to whisper in his ear, asking if he was ready to go.

Gerard had never been so happy about Pete Wentz keeping his big mouth shut, especially as he looked at him and saw the dumb comments about using protection and not being too loud written all over his face. He briefly wondered what Mikey had told him to make him shut up, but then he was standing up to put his coat on and Frank grasped his hand right there, in the middle of the room, right in front of Gerard's friends.

Gerard felt as if his heart was about to explode, but Frank's hand felt cool in his and it calmed him down. He said goodbye to his friends, grinning like a tool and blushing, but he didn't care because Frank was holding his hand and they were going home to watch movies and make out. Gerard was really fucking happy.

When they got outside, they only rounded the first corner before Frank stopped and pulled Gerard close, kissing him softly and gripping his waist with both hands. Gerard was smiling too much to really kiss back, which made him blush again and Frank kissed his cheek before pulling back and taking Gerard's hand again.

They walked in silence and it felt like it was taking ages to reach Gerard's house, even if they were probably walking faster than usual. He let out a quiet sigh of relief once he could spot it, and Frank squeezed his hand as they walked through the garden and to the basement door, Frank pressed close against Gerard's back.

As soon as they were inside Gerard's room, Frank was kissing him again. He used his tongue this time, licking his way into Gerard's mouth, and placing a hand at the back of Gerard's neck. Gerard managed to keep from grinning too much and just pressed closer to Frank, kissing back and wanting more.

He felt the edge of his bed against the back of his knees, not even aware that they had moved there, and let Frank push him down on it. He waited while Gerard scooted up to lie with his head on the pillows, and then settled on top of him; one leg nestled in between Gerard's thighs. His hands crept up under Gerard's shirt, and he shivered because Frank's hands were still cold from being outside.

"Is this okay?" Frank breathed hotly in his ear, and Gerard replied "Yes," with a shudder before bringing their lips together again. He was getting hard, and his jeans were getting uncomfortably tight, but Frank was pressing down against him and it felt amazing. He could feel Frank's hard on against his hip too, and he panted a little into the kiss.

Frank had taken his jacket off before, leaving his arms bare, and Gerard was running his hands up and down them. They were completely smooth, despite the ink marking them, and they felt kind of cold, just like Frank's hands and even his lips, but Gerard figured it was just because he felt so incredibly hot himself.

Frank was rocking his hips against Gerard's, creating the greatest friction he had ever experienced, and as Frank kissed his way down Gerard's neck, he moaned. His lips felt so cool against his skin it only made it hotter, and they were slick with their spit as they slid over Gerard's Adam's apple. For just a short moment, Frank scraped his teeth against Gerard's sensitive skin, and it made his hips jerk up as he gasped for breath.

Frank pushed Gerard's shirt up, moving back a little as he pulled the fabric over Gerard's head and tossed it to the side before tugging his own off as well. Gerard was staring now, at Frank's chest and the tattoos that were covering so much of his skin. He had expected more tattoos, he had almost known that there had to be more ink hidden under his clothes, but there were _so many._

There was a huge web-like piece adorning his chest, but Gerard was too interested in what was on Frank's stomach to care about the details. There were two birds on his stomach, two swallows, one with a halo and the other with devil horns, as well as "And" written between them, just under his belly button.

"Oh God," Gerard whispered, not really thinking about it, as his hands reached out on their own accord, needing to trace the perfect ink. Frank's stomach felt just as cold as the rest of his skin, and Gerard shivered as his fingers slid down, leaving the tattoos to follow the trail of dark hair leading into Frank's jeans.

His hand froze when he reached the fabric, not knowing at all what to do, but Frank's mouth was on his almost immediately, and he didn't feel bad about moving both his hands around to Frank's back. It was getting harder to ignore how cold Frank felt, though, as he ran his hands over his back and their bare chests pressed together. "Frank, you're really cold," he breathed out when Frank went back to mouthing at his throat.

"Cold?" Frank snorted against his skin, making Gerard shiver. "Not what I'm used to hearing, but I'm pretty flexible. I can work with that." He dragged his teeth against Gerard's skin again, and the teenager stuttered out a breath.

"No, I mean— Frank, wait— No, stop, wait." He put his hands on Frank's chest, pushing lightly, but when his eyes met Frank's he almost forgot why. Frank's eyes were dark, almost black in the dim lighting of Gerard's room, and he looked so hot, so turned on and fucking gorgeous.

"What's wrong?" Frank asked impatiently, bringing a hand up to cup Gerard's cheek.

It brought Gerard back out of staring at Frank and reminded him of what he was about to say. "Are you okay?" he asked, feeling slightly out of breath. "Your skin... it's fucking freezing," he whispered, tracing his fingers over Frank's collarbone.

"What?" Frank looked as if he wanted to laugh but was trying really hard not to.

"Are you feeling okay?" Gerard was starting to feel stupid under Frank's gaze, especially as he grinned and leaned down to kiss Gerard's neck. "Frank—"

"I'm fine. Better than fine, actually." He licked Gerard's ear, dragging a soft moan from his lips. "You're fucking gorgeous, Gee. I wanna make you feel good, gonna make you feel amazing." He kept licking at Gerard's ear, sometimes blowing cool air against the sensitive skin.

"Frank," he gasped, and Frank pulled away to look at him, the shifting of weight making his thigh slide against Gerard's still confined hard on. A small "Oh," slipped out of his mouth, and Frank pushed down, starting a rocking motion with their hips again.

Gerard was getting close. He knew that if Frank kept moving his hips like that, he would only last a few more minutes at the most, but even if it was embarrassing to come so fast, it was still thrilling to be doing this with someone else. Just the feeling of Frank's bare chest against his was exciting, and not only because Gerard found himself enjoying the chilly feeling of it.

Frank seemed to be getting warmer, though, but Gerard wasn't sure if it was just him getting used to it, or if Frank was warming up. Frank's fingers still made him shudder as they teased Gerard's nipples, and Gerard's hips bucked up when Frank slipped two fingers into the waistband of his jeans and boxers.

Frank was panting and moaning against Gerard's neck, pushing down harder with his hips and Gerard _loved_ the feeling of Frank's hard on grinding against his hip. He wanted to touch him, to undo his pants and get him off, and maybe if Frank had done the same to him, he would have, but he was too shy. Instead, he just lay there, panting and groaning, letting out these soft, embarrassing mewls as he was getting closer.

He saw stars when he came; hot and sticky in his pants, his skin feeling as if tiny explosions were going off everywhere he was touching Frank. The air was buzzing, his head was buzzing, and he had never come so hard in his life.

Frank was still moving against him, panting hard into his neck and even sweating a little, and Gerard ran his eager hands up and down his back before moving further down to grab his ass and push him closer. "Jesus, Gee," he groaned, then Gerard felt his hips stutter to a halt. He didn't even feel Frank's fingertips digging into his sides until moments later when Frank relaxed and let go.

Frank lay on top of him for what felt like hours, but it was only a few minutes before he rolled off to lie on his back next to Gerard. He could feel Frank's arm against his own, and their fingers brushed briefly before Frank grabbed his hand. When he looked over, Frank had a happy, sort of dopey smile on his face, and Gerard just wanted to kiss him, so he did.

Gerard ended up lying halfway on top of Frank's chest as they got lost in the kiss, and Frank's arms wound around his waist to keep him close. "You're not cold anymore," Gerard murmured against his lips when they finally broke away, pressing closer into Frank's now warm skin. Not that the cold hands hadn't been sexy in their own way, but this was better for cuddling.

"I guess you warmed me up." Frank sighed contently and tugged on Gerard to get him to lie down, which he did with his head nuzzled under Frank's chin.

"What's up with that?" Gerard still asked, because he felt like he deserved to know. He was worried, he had been worried, and it was kind of awkward and not so sexy to be worried during sex. If you could even call what they had done sex. Gerard didn't know.

"I have an unusually low body temperature," Frank replied, as if it was the most normal thing ever. "And if I get cold it tends to drop even further, and it can take some time for me to get warm. It's nothing dangerous, it's just weird. It freaked my parents out when I was little, not to mention the countless doctors who were trying to figure out what was wrong." Frank chuckled softly and Gerard could feel the vibrations in his chest.

"I'm sorry if it freaked you out, too," he added a little more softly, squeezing Gerard's waist.

"It's okay," Gerard said, smiling and lifting his head up to look at Frank. "At least now I'll be prepared for—" He hesitated a little, realizing that what he was about to say might sound really stupid. They had never said what this was, what they were doing. They had just started making out, and then Gerard had assumed...

Frank was looking at him expectantly, so Gerard hurried to say, "I mean, if there's going to be a next time—" He stopped again, but now it was because Frank was kissing him. He was gentle, but persistent, and Gerard didn't want to pull away to breathe.

Frank broke the kiss anyway, as well as the embrace, apparently needing to go and clean up before his pants got _really_ uncomfortable. Gerard could relate, and while Frank disappeared into the bathroom, he got out of his pants and wiped himself off with some tissues. He even managed to put on some clean boxers and sweatpants and put the old pants in the laundry basket before Frank came back out.

"So, do you wanna watch that movie now?" Gerard asked quietly as Frank stepped in close, wrapping his arms around Gerard's waist. They were both still shirtless, and as Gerard watched Frank's bare, tattooed skin he was starting to feel shy again.

Frank was quick to bring him out of it, though, as he grinned and asked, "Sure. What did you have in mind?"

*

Gerard had had a lot of things in mind, actually, but none of them had included falling asleep on Frank's chest five minutes into the movie. He couldn't help it, though, he just felt so tired and Frank was warm and comfy.

Frank didn't seem to mind, though, as he didn't wake him up. Not even when the end credits rolled an hour and a half later did he try to wake Gerard up. He just let him sleep.

When Gerard finally did wake up, the DVD screen saver was flashing in a lot of different colors, and the digital numbers red 3:24. He groaned sleepily, blinking and rubbing his eyes awake, and Frank stirred next to him, tightening his grip on Gerard's waist.

"Hey, I—" Gerard started to say, but was interrupted by a yawn. "I'm sorry I fell asleep. I just— It's been a really long week, y'know?"

They both sat up a little straighter on the bed, and Frank pulled Gerard in for a kiss. "It's okay. I didn't expect you to stay up all night. Especially not after what we did earlier," he whispered the last part directly in Gerard's ear, making him blush hotly.

"You could have woken me up," Gerard insisted, but Frank just shrugged.

"I don't mind. And it's not like I didn't have anything to do. The movie was actually pretty good, despite the disturbing incest/hybrid sex scenes." He made a face and Gerard couldn't help but laugh and lean in and kiss him.

"I guess I'm kind of glad I fell asleep, then," he murmured when Frank pulled away, and then he yawned again.

"You should sleep, like, properly," Frank said, patting Gerard's head as if he was a child. "I should go, anyway."

Gerard knew he was making a face like a lovesick puppy when Frank let go of him and got up off the bed, reaching for his shirt on the floor, but he didn't want Frank to leave. He hadn't expected him to leave, so it came as a shock when he decided to just go in the middle of the night.

"You can stay if you want to," he offered, standing up as well, but Frank shook his head.

"I'd love to, but I would have to leave really early and I don't wanna disturb you. You need to sleep." He was putting his leather jacket on, and then stepped in close to place a hand on Gerard's cheek. "I've had a really good time, though," he said, sounding a little breathless as he pulled Gerard into a hot kiss.

"Mmm, me too," Gerard hummed when they pulled away briefly to breathe.

They kissed again by the door, Frank pushing Gerard up against it, neither of them wanting to stop. Gerard, still without a shirt, was shivering, and Frank wasn't feeling as warm anymore, but he couldn't get enough of Frank's tongue.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Gerard asked when they finally separated. He couldn't wait to see Frank again. He couldn't wait to feel his mouth and body against his again. There were so many things he wanted to do.

"Yeah," Frank promised with a final kiss, then he was out the door and Gerard hurried to close it despite the urge he had to watch Frank disappear in the dark night. It was February, after all.

*

**Monday, November 14th, 2016**

Mikey spends most of the day sleeping, despite his original intentions of reading up on spells and the proper way to use certain herbs. He had sat in bed to do it, but with Pete dozing off next to him he couldn't fight the heaviness of his eyelids or the urge to just curl into Pete's arms.

Pete isn't there when he wakes up. All the books that Mikey had left by the foot of the bed are gone, and the light is out, so the room is dark. The sun is long gone.

He sits up immediately, seething with anger because no one has woken him up. He has wasted an entire day of sunlight sleeping, he hasn't gotten anything done and Pete and the others just let him.

They need to go out tonight, to find Frank, but they don't even have a plan.

He goes downstairs and finds Pete in the kitchen with Patrick, laughing at something his new friend is telling him. Mikey stops just outside the room, standing in the shadows, before either of them sees him. He isn't listening to what they're saying, but he's watching them, he's watching Pete and he's shocked by what he finds.

Pete looks happy. He looks genuinely happy, like Mikey hasn't seen him in years, not since before Gerard disappeared and Mikey lost it and everything went to shit. Not even during the two years they have been together has Mikey ever seen Pete grin like that, like he's grinning at Patrick.

He makes a soft, sad sound without even realizing it, and Pete and Patrick turn to him, surprised looks on their faces. Pete is smiling again within seconds, though, reaching out a hand and beckoning him closer.

"Hey, did you sleep well?" Pete's hand feels soft against his skin, and his smile is so pretty, his teeth pearl white.

He squeezes Pete's shoulder with his free hand, runs his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, sure. Why didn't you wake me up?" The question is directed to Pete, but Mikey glances over at Patrick who's got an insecure look on his face.

"You looked really tired, and you haven't slept a lot lately, so I thought I should let you rest." Pete tugs on his hand a little, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Yeah, but it's already dark out. Do you have a plan?" Mikey knows that he's coming off as a bitchy boyfriend in front of Patrick, but he doesn't care. Pete's new best friend isn't important. Getting out of this house and going to find Frank is.

"Mikey," is all that comes out of Pete's mouth, and it says all that Mikey needs to hear.

"Oh, fucking hell, you can't be serious!" He lets go of Pete and backs off fast, as if just being near him made him sick. "You know we don't have a lot of time! That's why we came here today and not three weeks from now. You agreed with me on that!" Mikey's practically screaming, but he can't seem to lower his voice.

"Calm down," Pete says, suddenly standing close to Mikey and holding his shoulders in a firm grip. Normally, all it would take to make Mikey calm down was Pete's soothing voice and warm eyes, but when he looks at Pete now, all he can feel is betrayal.

"We have to do something now, Pete," Mikey says, freeing himself of his boyfriend's hold on him. "What about the others? Have they done anything? Have you guys even thought about why we're here once since we arrived?"

Pete is just about to say something when Mikey looks past him at Patrick who's standing awkwardly in the background as if he's not sure whether to stay or leave. Mikey's not sure why, but the anger flares up inside him again and he doesn't want to hear whatever Pete has got to say. "Fuck this. I'll just go myself."

He's halfway upstairs when he hears Pete calling out after him, "Mikey, please. You're not thinking rationally. You can't go out there alone. You don't even know your way around here." He ignores him, and goes to find where they have put all of their equipment instead.

He brings two stakes, a vial of Holy water and sticks a large crucifix in his pocket, just in case. He has no idea how many vampires there are in this area, or if Frank has friends or accomplices, but he hopes that he won't run into anything worse than he can handle.

Pete tries to stop him again on his way out, a sad, pleading look on his face, but Mikey does his best to ignore it. "Either you come with me, or you get the fuck out of my way." Pete stands completely still for a minute, staring at the ground, but then he moves. "Don't wait up for me."

*

**Saturday, February 5th 2011**

"—and there were all of these police cars and other stuff and CSI looking guys and it was so cool! There was this old guy with gray hair and a huge mustache giving me really suspicious looks and I think he might have thought _I_ was the vampire!" Pete's voice was way too loud when Gerard entered the kitchen around lunchtime the next day, and Gerard wasn't even hung over. He just really hated that kid's voice.

"Don't you guys ever get tired of the vampire thing?" he asked, as a _rhetorical_ question, but of course Pete had to take it to heart and answer him.

"How can you get tired of it when there are new bodies found every other day? I mean, they had just found one when I walked over here this morning, just a few streets away," Pete said, hovering a little too close for comfort while Gerard was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"I wish I could have seen the body." Pete sounded a little disappointed. "It would have been so cool to see the bite-marks for real. I mean, real vampire bite-marks on a real vampire victim? So fucking awesome! I wonder if the dead people come back as vampires? That could explain why there are so many murders, I mean, if there are more and more vampires every week."

Gerard didn't even dignify the theory with an answer, he just snorted at the fascinated look on his brother's face.

"Talking about bite-marks; that's a really nice hickey you got there, Gerard." Pete smirked at him before breaking into a fit of giggles along with Mikey, and Gerard's cheeks flushed hotly. "How was it?" Pete asked eagerly when Gerard failed to answer him. "Did you do it?"

Gerard shrugged and took a sip of his coffee, staring down at the table as both his brother and Pete were looking straight at him. He wasn't sure what to say, because sure, him and Frank had done _something,_ but he didn't know what to classify it as or what Pete even meant by "it."

"Was it bad?" Mikey asked, taking the silence the wrong way, and Gerard hurried to protest, "No, no, not at all."

Mikey and Pete both looked as if they were waiting for more, and Gerard finally caved. "It was awesome." He couldn't stop the smile spreading over his face, even as he raised his cup to drink, but at least he didn't look like a tomato anymore. "We didn't do _it_ -it if that's what you mean, but it was so fucking hot!"

Mikey didn't look all that interested in what Gerard and Frank had done, but Pete looked as if he wanted to pull out a pen and paper and take notes. "You should have seen his tattoos! They were all over him and so fucking gorgeous, and I couldn't take my eyes off them. He had these birds on his stomach, and they were so beautiful."

"Cool," Pete said breathlessly while Mikey took it upon himself to make more coffee, probably realizing that they might be there for a while.

"And you know, everything he did was just so fucking hot. And, he was really cold, like his skin was fucking freezing all over, and I don't understand what that was about, but it was fucking hot! When he touched me... it just felt really fucking amazing." Gerard sighed softly as he remembered the feeling of Frank's fingers running over his chest, teasing his nipples.

"What do you mean 'he was cold?'" Mikey asked, seemingly more interested now. "You mean like a vampire?"

"You think he's a vampire?" Pete asked Mikey in a loud whisper, and then turned back to Gerard. "Did he have fangs? Did he have a reflection? Did he hesitate before walking out into the sunlight?"

"Oh my God, we are not having this conversation." Gerard face-palmed and groaned softly, but the last question reminded him of what Pete had been talking about earlier and the fact that Frank had left, on foot, in the middle of the night. His first instinct was to call Frank to see if he was okay, but he quickly remembered that Frank had never given him a phone number.

"Hey Pete, about that new murder victim— Uh, did you find out anything about it? Like, who it was? If it was a guy or a girl, around what time they had been killed?" It was a bit embarrassing to have to resign to asking Pete questions to find out if Frank was okay or not, but Gerard did what he had to do.

"No, sorry. Why do you ask?" Pete asked curiously.

"Uh, nothing, I was just wondering. I thought I could maybe paint it if I knew some details," Gerard lied, not wanting to share his concerns with the others.

"Oh cool. Mikey showed me some of your drawings. They were really good," Pete said really earnestly before adding, "You had some of Frank with fangs, didn't you? You think he's a vampire, don't you?"

"Oh for fuck's sake," Gerard groaned and got up. "Frank is not a vampire."

_But he might have been eaten by one,_ Gerard thought to himself, feeling a little miserable as he left the room.

*

Frank hadn't been eaten by a vampire, Gerard was happy to find out later that night when he and his group of friends made their way into an unusually crowded Bachmeier's. There were people pretty much everywhere, but Gerard spotted Frank right away where he was behind the counter, handing out bottles left and right.

He looked up and smiled at Gerard, who wanted to kiss that smile so badly, but instead he just made his way over there while the others settled down by their table which was miraculously free. Gerard suspected that Frank had something to do with it, but figured that it didn't really matter.

"Hey," Frank said, sounding a little stressed as he got out six bottles for Gerard and his friends.

"Hey, when does your shift end?" he asked as he handed over the money, smiling when his fingers brushed against Frank's cold ones.

"Late," Frank sighed. "Gee, look... I can't hang out with you tonight, okay? Some old friends of mine are in town, and I want to spend some time with them before they move on, you know?" He looked really apologetic for a moment, his eyes meeting Gerard's, but then he seemed to be looking at something else. Gerard turned around and followed his gaze until it fell on a group of strange-looking guys that he had never seen before.

They were all staring, almost glaring, right back at Gerard who couldn't help but shudder. They all looked ghostly pale in the dim lighting in the corner where they were seated, but their eyes were dark. Their outfits were even stranger, reminding Gerard of circus people, but from another time, like the 1930's or something. Gerard held back a snort as he realized they all looked kind of girly, and also really young.

"You could introduce us," Gerard suggested a little shyly. It was probably still too early to meet each other's friends; at least Gerard didn't want Frank to meet his friends in a long time. "I wouldn't mind getting to know them." He really just wanted to spend time with Frank, even if his creepy friends from out of town had to be there.

"No." The harshness of Frank's reply surprised Gerard, and when he looked back at Frank, his face was frozen with anger and his eyes dark as his gaze flickered from Gerard to his friends and then back. Then it went away and Frank seemed to relax as he said, "I just don't think you'd get along very well, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Gerard said slowly, throwing another glance back over his shoulder toward Frank's odd friends. He wondered why Frank thought they wouldn't get along, if that was even the truth. Sure, they looked weird, but so did Gerard, even if it was in a different way. He was sure it couldn't be the gay thing either, because two of them were sitting really close and holding hands.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Frank said, pulling Gerard out of his not so discreet staring. He gave Gerard his change back and ran his fingers all over his hand, caressing the back of it in a way that made the skin at the back of Gerard's neck _tingle_.

"Uh, yeah," he muttered in reply before leaving with the drinks.

He was still a little taken aback after Frank's strange and out of character brusqueness, and both confused and curious about Frank's friends. He kept himself busy trying to figure out why Frank didn't want him to meet him, and every idea that he had was crazier than the last one. He got kind of stuck on the ones where Frank's friends were either junkies or members of some criminal gang which Frank was on the run from. Frank had all of those tattoos, maybe they were gang tattoos, or even worse, _prison_ tattoos? Gerard didn't know anything about stuff like that; he wouldn't be able to tell them apart from regular tattoos.

He thought about the swallows that had fascinated him the previous night and felt his face flush red just as he reached the table and sat down next to Brian. "Fucking finally," Bob sighed next to them and reached for the bottles, handing them out to everyone.

Gerard wasn't very thirsty right then, and just sipped his beer slowly as this prickling feeling appeared in the back of his neck. It felt as if someone was watching him, and when he looked around there were two people who were definitely staring at him. Two of Frank's friends, the ones who were holding hands, had their eyes glued to him and they didn't even try to hide it. One of them, the most girly looking one who seemed to have some kind of weird makeup on his face, was whispering something to the other, and Gerard wasn't sure he wanted to know what they were saying about him.

"Gee, are you okay?" Mikey asked, and Gerard turned away from the creepy stares. "What did Frank say?" he added, and Gerard felt the disappointment wash over him at the reminder of how Frank didn't want to hang out that night.

"He's busy tonight. Some old friends of his are in town or whatever," _and he didn't want me around,_ he just stopped himself from adding. It wasn't like that, he tried to tell himself. He was also trying to tell himself that he was probably being too clingy and about to scare Frank off for good if he didn't back off and let Frank have some space. It was just that... last night had been _special_.

Gerard had never done that before, made out with someone and just kind of grinded and humped each other until they both came, and even if it wasn't full-on sex he couldn't help but feel like Frank had taken part of his virginity or something. He had been his first real kiss too, not counting drunken kisses at parties where he didn't even know who he was kissing half the time.

Frank had even been nice about everything that they had done, which was totally awesome on its own. It wasn't that Gerard read a lot of magazines or stuff like that, but he knew that older guys were _supposedly_ only interested in sex and using young girls—and guys like Gerard— for their own pleasure. Frank hadn't been like that. He had never seemed like that type, which was probably why it was so easy for Gerard to fall for him in the first place, but now Gerard didn't know what to think.

"If those creepy guys in the corner are Frank's friends, I think we should consider withdrawing our blessing of your relationship with him," Pete said from out of nowhere, and when Gerard looked over at him he noticed that Pete was having some kind of glaring contest with the creepy guys.

"Since when have we even asked for anyone's blessing?" Gerard asked, but Pete just shrugged, not taking his eyes off of the guy with the makeup. "And if we ever do, the last person I'd ask would be you."

"But you'd ask Mikey and he happens to take all of my opinions into deep consideration, whether you like it or not," Pete retorted with an annoying smirk and Gerard just barely resisted the urge to reach across the table and smack him in the head.

"Either way, guys," Mikey said with a weird tone to his voice, "´Those guys are fucking creepy and I really don't think you should hang out with them, Gee. Have you noticed how they aren't talking to each other? They're just sitting there, staring at _us._ "

"Me hanging out with them won't be a problem. Frank didn't want us to even meet. He said we wouldn't 'get along,' whatever that means." Gerard sighed, and jumped a little in surprise at Brian's hand squeezing his shoulder. He hadn't realized Brian was even paying attention to them.

"You know Gee, if you're sad you can always make him jealous by making out with me," he offered with a grin, eyes all bright and eager, and Gerard laughed.

"Uh, thanks, but no thanks?" He giggled, and Brian did too, neither of them able to stop. When they could finally breathe again, Brian pecked his cheek and laid his head on Gerard's shoulder and Gerard thought it was really sweet.

He felt that prickling sensation of someone staring at him again and assumed that it was the creeps, but when he turned his head to check he was met with Frank's harsh gaze and he couldn't help but flinch and jerk away from Brian. Frank looked jealous and Gerard felt as if he had been caught doing something bad, even if he knew that it really was nothing.

Frank's eyes didn't budge, but Gerard looked away after a long moment. He slumped in his seat, sighing again, but this time Brian didn't cheer him up. He was already deep in conversation with Bob and Ray about this new up-and-coming band from Trenton that were going to play in Newark in a few weeks. Gerard wasn't interested enough to join in on their conversation, and Pete and Mikey were talking about this girl Mikey wanted to ask out, so Gerard didn't really want to get in on that either.

"Hey guys, I think I'm gonna head out," he said at last, not looking back at Frank or caring about the staring guys in the corner. They all waved him off, not even questioning his early departure, but Gerard didn't mind. He was still more disappointed by Frank's behavior than that of his friends.

He made it outside without any trouble, but just as he was rounding the first corner—the one Frank and he had kissed at the previous night, he couldn't help but remember—someone grabbed him by the arm. He jerked back automatically, believing it was either the creeps from inside or Saporta and the other guys on the basketball team. They hadn't bothered him at all this week so he was just waiting for them to strike when he least expected it.

However, when he turned around and stopped fighting to get loose, he realized that it was Frank.

"Hey, calm down. It's just me," he said, easing his grip as Gerard stopped pulling. "I'm sorry I scared you," he whispered, stepping close and letting his hand slide down Gerard's arm until their fingers met and tangled together.

"It's okay, I just thought it was your fr—" He stopped himself from finishing the sentence and hastily said, "I thought it was someone else, that's all." Frank just nodded, probably knowing what Gerard had been about to say anyway. He didn't seem to mind, though.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," Frank said after a long moment of silence. "I heard about the new murder. It was really close to your house, right?"

"Yeah. Pete walked right by the scene when he came over this morning," Gerard replied, feeling a little odd talking about it with Frank. "I was— I was scared it was you," he confessed, not really meaning to.

"What?" Frank looked a little worried, and Gerard's brain instantly went _Too clingy! Too clingy!_

"Because you left in the middle of the night, and the first thing I heard when I got up this morning was that someone had been murdered just a few blocks away, and I didn't know what to think, and I couldn't call you because I don't have your number, and I was scared." Gerard spoke too fast, he was rambling and Frank probably didn't even catch all of it, and if he did, he must have thought Gerard was some kind of creep, Gerard thought, but what happened was that Frank kissed him.

It was sweet and slow, and he was cupping Gerard's cheeks in his ice-cold hands, and Gerard just melted against him. "Don't," Frank whispered against his lips. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, no matter what, okay?"

"How do you know that?" Gerard asked stubbornly, but Frank just kissed him again, ignoring the question.

_"You_ should be more careful," Frank said instead, letting go of Gerard and taking a step back. "You shouldn't be out here alone," he repeated the line from before, and Gerard could tell that he really cared.

"Walk me home?"

"I can't," Frank replied with a sad smile. "I have to work, and someone needs to keep an eye on Ryan and the others." Gerard didn't say anything about it, but he wondered which one of Frank's friends was Ryan. Probably the makeup one. He was the creepiest and seemed kind of like the group leader or something.

"Tomorrow then," Gerard said, sounding hopeful, but Frank shook his head.

"I don't think so. I'm not working tomorrow, so the guys might be expecting us to hang out some more before they leave again." He looked as if he might actually prefer if he didn't have to hang out with his friends, but Gerard thought it might be his own wishful thinking. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said, and for the first time it really felt okay. Frank having a life of his own wasn't a bad thing, even if it made Gerard feel even more like a High School loser nerd whose only real friend was his little brother. It made Gerard wish he had other things to do, better things to spend his time on than hanging at Bachmeier's every night.

"Good. I'll see you Monday, right?" Frank asked, stepping closer again as they had drifted apart during the conversation. His eyes glittered in the light of a streetlight across the street, and Gerard's heart fluttered at the small, hopeful smile on his face.

"Yeah," Gerard replied, a little breathless, and leaned in to close the gap between their mouths. Frank's lips were cold, but soft, and Gerard was beginning to love the feeling of Frank's wet and chilly tongue in his mouth. He sucked on the tip, moaning around it, and Frank gripped his waist tight as his own hands fisted the front of Frank's jacket.

"I have to get back to work," Frank whispered, reluctantly pulling out of the kiss.

"Please don't go," Gerard asked, and Frank laughed softly, making Gerard smile as he opened his eyes and looked at Frank. "I could do this all n—" he started to say, but stopped abruptly when he spotted something just a few paces behind Frank.

"What's wrong?" Frank asked almost immediately, and spun around, following the line of Gerard's gaze.

Frank's friends, the one with the makeup and the brown-haired guy who seemed to be attached to his arm, were standing right at the corner, staring at them. Their eyes seemed to be almost black in the dark night, and they weren't blinking. They also didn't look happy, and Gerard wondered for the umpteenth time that night how and why Frank was friends with these people, because frankly, they were scaring the shit out of Gerard.

They didn't say anything, they just glared at Gerard, sending him these murderous looks, and he really wished that Frank could walk him home. They didn't glare at Frank so much as send him these scolding, kind of reprimanding looks.

Gerard wanted to ask what their problem was, but he already was so scared he was clutching one of Frank's hands in a death grip. He wasn't sure when he had grasped Frank's hand in the first place, but he was sure glad he had.

"Ryan," Frank finally spoke, breaking the terrible silence, and Gerard shivered. It wasn't Frank's usual voice; it was different, darker somehow, deep and sharp at the same time. Gerard felt goose bumps at the back of his neck, and his heart raced.

The guy with the makeup cocked his head to the side, and Gerard assumed that he was, in fact, Ryan. The other one bared his teeth in what could have been a grin, but just looked wrong. "We don't play with our food, Frank," he said, and Gerard shuddered yet again. His voice was weird, just like Frank's had been, dark and kind of spooky, and for some reason it made Gerard picture a big shadow in his head, and it was swallowing them all alive.

"You can't talk to me like that," Frank growled, low in his throat, still in that weird voice. Gerard might have been able to find that hot if it hadn't sounded so _wrong._

A few moments of silence passed, no one saying or doing anything until, finally, Ryan and the other guy left.

"You need to go," Frank said, in his normal voice, and turned back to Gerard.

Gerard wasn't going to just let it go, though. He wasn't that easy. "Who are those guys? Are they on drugs? How do you know them? I don't think you should be hanging out with them." He knew he was probably sounding like a bitch and Frank's mother at the same time, but he couldn't help worrying, okay?

"Gee, you just don't know them. They're my friends, I'm not gonna just shut them out. I can't. I've known them for a really long time, and—"

"You've only known me for a week," Gerard finished for him.

"Sometimes a week is enough." Frank smiled, cupping Gerard's cheek. "But Brendon and Ryan are special—"

"And I'm not?" Gerard interrupted him again. He knew he wasn't being fair, but right then he really didn't care.

"They're like brothers to me," Frank said, ignoring Gerard's comment and rolling his eyes. "They're family and, no matter how weird they get, they will be family."

Gerard wasn't exactly happy about Frank response, because family or not, Brendon and Ryan were creepy as fuck and had really scared him. If Frank was so close to them and knew that they were weird, why didn't he get them help or something? That's what Gerard would do if Mikey really lost it, or whatever.

"Didn't you say you had to get back to work?" he asked, glaring down at Frank's shoes. He wanted to go home, but he wanted Frank to leave first. It was easier like that.

"Yeah, I did," Frank replied, and Gerard watched him shuffle his feet around. "Gee— Goodnight, Gerard."

"Goodnight, Frank," he replied, expecting Frank to just go once he had said it, but instead Frank was crowding his space, touching his hand and kissing his cheek. He shuddered at the cold finger running along the side of his hand and shut his eyes at the feeling of Frank's soft lips against his skin.

"Be careful," Frank whispered and moved away. Gerard didn't say or do anything, and the next thing he knew was the sound of Frank walking away.

When he opened his eyes, he was alone.

**Sunday, February 6th 2011**

"I ruined _everything,"_ Gerard groaned against the wooden table, and then jerked up when it felt like he got a splinter in his lower lip. "He probably won't ever want to see me again, and he won't talk to me, and if I had his number—" He paused suddenly and lifted his head off the table, just to make sure Mikey was still paying attention to him. "If I had his number and called or texted him he would ignore me."

Mikey gave him a look that wasn't quite sympathetic, but it wasn't mocking either, and when he offered his almost full coffee mug to Gerard, he thought it meant that Mikey was at least trying to understand.

"It's probably good that I don't have his number," Gerard groaned, against the hot surface of the mug this time. "If I did I'd probably keep calling him at odd hours and he'd think I'm some creepy stalker, not to mention how he must already think I'm some pathetic, super clingy not-even-boyfriend!" He put the mug back down without drinking.

"Gee, I'm sure it's not that bad," Mikey said, trying to sound reassuring, but Gerard wouldn't have that.

"But it is! You weren't there Mikey, I was a total bitch about his friends. We've been on _one_ date, and I've already started bitching about his friends. We're doomed." He put his head in his hands and slumped even more against the table than he had before.

"You do realize that your life isn't some bad chick flick, right?" Mikey asked, stealing his coffee back since Gerard wasn't drinking it anyway.

"That's the point! In a bad chick flick he would forgive me and take me back in the end."

"How do you know he won't?"

"Because he practically said so!" Gerard blurted out, and when Mikey still didn't look convinced he continued, "He said that his friends are more important and since I don't like them it's obviously me who has to go."

"Did he say that?"

Gerard ignored the question. "He didn't even want me to meet his friends. He's probably embarrassed to be seen with me. That's why we only ever see each other late at night, and go to places like that diner. Because there aren't any people around."

"Did he _say_ that?" Mikey asked again, rolling his eyes a little.

Gerard didn't really want to reply, so he just sat there, huffing and sighing and groaning for a minute until he finally admitted, "No."

"Exactly. So just stop thinking about him for five minutes and do something useful. Whining about how he's going to dump you when he's not is not going to help anyone." Their mother walked into the kitchen at that moment, and even if Gerard wanted to tell Mikey he was completely wrong about this he didn't, not only because his mom was there, but because he was sort of hoping Mikey was right for once.

"Nine bodies? Are you serious? And one was _alive?"_ Mikey perked up immediately at the word "bodies" as they both listened to their mother's side of the conversation she seemed to be having with her friend Rosie over the phone.

Gerard met Mikey's eyes and almost laughed out loud at the excitement in them. He knew Mikey was only waiting for their mother to hang up to pounce and pepper her with stupid questions about the new murders. There was no doubt the new murders were the so called "vampire killings." Their mom and Rosie wouldn't be talking about them if they weren't since Rosie's husband was one of the Detectives in charge of the investigation and shared more information than he was allowed to with his wife.

"There were nine bodies?" Mikey all but shouted the second Mrs. Way put the handset down on the table, rolling her eyes at her youngest son.

"Yes."

"Were they still alive when they were found? Did they say what attacked them?" Mikey continued, his eyes the size of saucers. Gerard sipped his coffee and watched in amusement.

"One of them was alive, a young girl, but she passed away in the ambulance. She had lost too much blood." Mrs. Way got a sad look on her face, and Gerard was just about to reach out and pat her arm when she shook it off. "And it's obvious what killed them." She paused, and Mikey looked at her expectantly, eyes practically bulging out of his skull. "It's a monster."

"A vampire," Mikey whispered, nodding slowly.

Gerard snorted, which made his mother look at him in dismay, but he just shrugged and corrected Mikey, "A _psycho._ "

Mrs. Way rolled her eyes again and grabbed her pack of smokes and lighter of the kitchen counter and left the room, meaning she was heading out to the backyard for a smoke or two and would be gone for at least five minutes.

"So, about Frank—" Gerard started once his mother was out of earshot, but was interrupted by Mikey, "Who cares about Frank? There's a band of vampires on the loose!"

"Mikey, there are no vampires! It's just some crazy people who are draining people of their blood—"

"—by drinking it from their throats, yeah. It's called vampirism. It's real Gerard, just accept it."

"What about _Frank?"_ Gerard asked again, dragging out the "A".

"Well, I'm sure if you talk to him, and make him understand that what he's doing is bad, and get him to leave town, you might not have to stake him."

"I meant about whether or not he's going to break up with me. He's not a vampire."

"Oh. Uh, you don't know that. You should try him or something. Use garlic. I think I saw some in the fridge earlier," Mikey said, looking really thoughtful and concentrated with his creased eyebrows and fingers tapping his chin. His glasses just made him look stupid, though, Gerard thought.

"He's not a vampire," Gerard repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Well then, I told you to forget about him already. If he wants to go out with you again, he wants to go out with you again. There's no use fretting over it until you know." Mikey pinched the bridge of his nose.

"But..." Gerard said, but he didn't know what he was supposed to follow that up with. Not until Mikey raised a know-it-all eyebrow at him and looked all smug and annoying. "What do you know? You're just a kid. What do you know about guys and relationships?" Gerard spluttered and Mikey laughed.

"More than you, obviously."

Gerard would have come up with a great comeback if he hadn't been interrupted by his mother coming back into the kitchen right then. "Boys, just so you know, I don't want the two of you going out so much this week, alright? Not at night, I mean. I don't like that bar you go to. It doesn't seem safe."

"Mom, Bachmeier's awesome. There's nothing wrong with the bar," Gerard whined.

"I don't want you going there so much. You can see your friends if you like, but I'd like you to take the car if you go anywhere when it's dark."

"I don't think a car's going to stop a vampire from drinking your blood," Mikey piped up.

"Has any of the victims been found in a car?"

"No," Mikey sighed. "But one girl was found just outside one, holding her keys as if she had been trying to get in."

"Michael, that's enough. You don't go to that bar, and you don't walk anywhere when it's dark."

"Does that mean I get to drive, too?" Mikey said, grinning a little hopefully now. He didn't have a license. He was still too young to get it.

"No, you can catch a ride with one of your friends, or your brother can drive you." She sent a glare towards Gerard, and he sighed. Now he'd be on chauffeur duty all week, or whenever the car was free for him to use, which it rarely was anyway.

"Fine," the two brothers sighed together, and their mother left, a smug smile on her face.

Gerard glanced over to Mikey for a second and he was the perfect image of misery as he said, "I guess this means I can't go vampire hunting with Pete."

"Get a life."

*

**Tuesday, November 15th, 2016**

Mikey stays out all night. He has no idea of where he is, but he walks up and down streets and alleys, hovers around street corners for shorter amounts of time and sits down on park benches when his feet start to hurt.

Everything is quiet and calm, and Mikey doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Of course, Mikey doesn't live in Chicago and has never been here before so he doesn't really know what is ordinary here, but except for the random group of teenagers smoking under a streetlight, there is nothing.

He walks by a house and hears a door open, a dog barks and a man mutters something that doesn't quite reach Mikey's ears. It's not the first dog owner he has seen that is just barely letting the dog out of the door instead of walking it around the block, and Mikey thinks that _this is_ out of the ordinary.

People are afraid to go out in the dark on their own. They're afraid of their own city at night. They're scared of their neighbors, of the playground their kids play at during the day when it is bright and sunny. The citizens of Chicago are afraid of the night.

He stops and sits down on another park bench, facing a small pond. He pulls out his pack of smokes as he watches the shiny surface, lights one up as he counts the stars that are reflected in the water. He takes a drag as a slim looking black cat pads across the lawn on the other side of the pond, comes to the conclusion that at least the animals aren't afraid.

He wonders for a moment if the cat has an owner or if it's a stray, but realizes that it's not malnourished enough to be homeless. It's out here in the dark, though, on its own, so it hasn't taken on its owner's fear, and the owner wasn't scared enough not to let the precious pet out.

The animals aren't in any danger, but the humans are. Something is terribly wrong here, and Mikey knows just what it is. It's just like how it was in Belleville five years ago, only so much worse. There, it had never gotten to the point where everybody was afraid of going out. People worried about their families, parents worried about their children and set curfews for them, but no one avoided going out in the dark so completely.

The streets here are empty and everything is quiet, and Mikey is determined to make it all stop. He doesn't know how many there are, if it's just Frank or if he has a whole coven, but it doesn't matter. Mikey isn't scared of them.

He gets up, still with the cigarette between his fingers, and heads north. There are still hours to go before dawn, and Mikey has every intention to spend them out here, patrolling in the dark.

He finds a cemetery after only a few minutes, and he enters it, after only a few moments of hesitation and taking long, deep breaths. This can be it; this can be where Frank is hanging out, where he rests during the day. This can be it.

Mikey wishes he had brought a flashlight as he walks further into the cemetery, the light of the streetlights not reaching in between the trees and tall headstones, and the stars being too far away. It looks old, all of the tombstones in this part of the cemetery are big and expensive looking, but some are terribly overgrown by tall grass and weed, and others are corroded and the writing almost illegible.

There are a few crypts and mausoleums around, like the one Frank had _lived_ in back in New Jersey, and Mikey's heart beats faster, because this had to be it. It is too perfect for it not to be Frank's hiding place.

He approaches the closest one with slow steps, trying not to make a sound as to not disturb the silent nature around him, but he kicks a small pebble by accident, sending it clattering against the nearest tombstone. He holds in a breath for a moment, and is just about to let it out when something flashes by in the corner of his eye.

He turns towards it, but finds everything to be just as before. He looks harder, stares straight forward for several minutes until he sees it. There is a note, pinned to the trunk of a tree straight ahead.

He steps over to it slowly, still careful to make as little sound as possible, and for once the ground is on his side. Not wanting to touch it, he leaves it where it is, but steps closer to really see it. There is only one word written on it, in a beautiful, loopy and a little girly handwriting that looks familiar to Mikey.

_Leave._

The 'a' is a little wonky, the 'e's a little too long, just like they have always been. Mikey loves that handwriting, he has always been jealous of it because his own is clumsy and choppy, and he can never make it flow right. Gerard, though, he was gifted when it came to anything involving holding a pen in his hand.

The note, the single word on the tiny piece of paper, is written in Gerard's handwriting. Mikey would recognize it anywhere. He doesn't kid himself to believe that the note is actually written by Gerard. His brother is gone, dead, and dead people don't write notes like that. Not for their little brother.

He leaves the note and walks back to the path, still intending to check at least some of the crypts and mausoleums in the cemetery. There are too many signs pointing toward this place, too many for them to be coincidences.

He's barely taken a step forward before there's another flash of something moving, though, and then there's another note pinned to a tree ten yards away, straight ahead of him. It's written in the same handwriting, which he was expecting, but this one consists of two words.

_Go away._

He almost wishes he could go away, because it's no longer his choice. He has to do this. No one else is going to do it. No one else is going to claim responsibility.

He glances towards the crypt he was heading towards and decides that it will still be there tomorrow night. The sun is on its way up and he needs to be getting back to the house soon anyway.

Before he leaves, he gets his lighter up and holds it up under the second note, watching as it burns, the words no longer distinguishable. He can still see it in his head, though, the wonky 'a's and the long, looped tail of the 'y.'

The ashes finally fall to the frosty ground and he leaves.

*

**Monday, February 7th 2011**

School was pretty awful on Monday. Gerard got called into the Principal's office after first period, where his mother was already waiting with a disappointed look on her face. Mr. Anderson, the Principal, just nodded stiffly at him and gestured for him to take a seat before going straight to the point of the meeting.

"Gerard has been failing a lot of tests lately, and is falling behind in a lot of his classes. If he doesn't straighten himself out soon, he is going to fail almost all of his classes." Mr. Anderson had a somber look on his face and, when Gerard looked at his mother, her mouth was a straight line and her eyes pitch black.

"I have talked to all of his teachers, and he is allowed to retake all of the tests and redo all of the assignments that he has failed." He nodded encouragingly, which made the fat under his chin wobble, and Gerard could see the bald spot at the top of his head. He cringed.

"I understand that Gerard has a certain talent when it comes to art?" Mr. Anderson asked, but no one replied. "If you are planning to go to Art school, it would be a shame for your poor grades to get in the way," he continued, and Gerard nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Anderson," Gerard's mother finally spoke at the end of the meeting, her voice raspy as if she had smoked a whole pack of cigarettes on her way to the school. Gerard parroted his mother's words and they both shook the Principal's hand, although he was still seated behind his big oak desk and Gerard had to really try not to stare at the bald part of his head sticking up in the midst of graying hair.

"Gerard, you realize you're kind of grounded, right?" Mrs. Way turned to him when they stepped out of the office, and Gerard sighed.

"Yes, Mom." He kicked at the floor a little, thinking about how he now wouldn't be able to see Frank in ages, or ever again, before seeing the bright side of being kind of grounded. "Does this mean I don't have to drive Mikey around to see his friends?"

"You don't have to drive Mikey around." She smiled a little for the first time that morning, and Gerard let her pull him into a short hug. "Just make sure you get your grades up, okay Sweetie?"

"Yes, Mom," Gerard said, hugging her back.

*

The rest of the day didn't go much better. He had to talk to every teacher about when to retake the failed tests and set deadlines for failed projects, and lunch hour was ruined by Pete Wentz spending every single minute discussing the weekend's murders. There had been several pages in that morning's newspaper about the nine murders, which had all occurred in a house on the other side of town.

Apparently, there had been a small party thing going on and they had been attacked in the middle of it. However, no one could understand how nine young and healthy people were just overpowered like that, not to mention the fact that there were no signs of violence in the house. No one broke their way in, no one fought back.

"Because they're vampires and they compelled their victims not to fight back!" Pete argued again and again, even when no one was protesting. Gerard was sure he just liked the sound of his own voice, and the way Mikey looked at him with deep admiration.

Pete wasn't the worst thing that happened to him, though.

Just before last period, he was cornered by Gabe Saporta and William Beckett in the boys bathroom and, as they were intimidating jocks and about ten feet taller than him, he couldn't get out.

"Hey gay, I mean Way," Saporta kind of slurred right in his face. Then he smirked and said, "No, you know what? I actually mean gay."

"Where's your boyfriend, faggy boy?" Beckett drawled, grinning wide. "He's not here now, is he?"

"Aw, he left you all alone? He can't protect you then, can he?" Saporta was talking in a baby voice now, sounding more stupid than ever, and Gerard just couldn't help saying, "No, he's not here. If you want him to crush your balls again, I'm sure we can set something up."

It was the wrong thing to say, he discovered seconds later when a hand was pulling at his hair and smashing his head against the tiled wall. It hurt like hell, and he could feel blood oozing down his forehead and he was getting dizzy from the impact. He wasn't sure how many times he was banged into the wall, but suddenly he was getting pulled in the other direction and it felt as if he was about to have to take hairstyle advice from the Principal.

"You fucking arrogant little slut!" Saporta snarled in his ear and pushed him to the ground. His knees hurt and felt a little damp and he hoped he wasn't kneeling in anyone's piss. He also hoped he wasn't about to get raped in the ass or forced to suck anyone's cock, but then he realized he was kneeling in front of a toilet. His eyes had welled up with tears and everything was blurry, but he could feel the cold porcelain under his fingers.

"That cut on your head looks pretty nasty, Way. Maybe you should clean it up?" Beckett said, and then Gerard wasn't kneeling on the dirty floor anymore. There were hands in his hair and in the back of his hoodie, pushing him forward and down, and then he couldn't breathe.

He squeezed his eyes shut and pretended not to feel the sting of water in the cut on his forehead, but he couldn't ignore the water in his nose and mouth, flooding in and drowning him. He kicked out, kicking and punching and flailing around as he tried to get loose, but the hands holding him down were like vices, not slipping or loosening up for a second. It only lasted for a few moments, then the water ran down the drain and his head was yanked up harshly, before it happened all over again, and again.

Gerard wasn't sure how many times they flushed him, but he stopped fighting the third time. He just let them hold him down, making him feel dirty and pathetic until they were satisfied with their work and, when they left him there on the dirty bathroom floor, he stayed. His hair was dripping wet, soaking the shoulders of his hoodie, and he was dizzy and nauseous after getting beat up and nearly drowned. He lasted until he heard the door close, then he threw up in the toilet until there was nothing left in him.

He stayed on the floor for another ten minutes, crying and clutching his stomach while he rested his head against the wall. He had never felt so awful in his life. He had gotten flushed before, but that was ages ago, in Middle School, and he had never imagined it to happen now, in his Senior year of High School. That wasn't something that bullies did when you were in High School. It had always been psychological torment rather than physical. _Until that night when Frank had had to step in and beat the bullies up for him,_ Gerard thought. Until that night they had never really seemed like they wanted to do physical harm.

When he finally stood up, he rinsed his mouth in the sink, but wasn't really successful in washing away the taste of bile. He wasn't bleeding anymore, but there was a streak of blood along the side of his face, and he didn't care about washing it off. It wasn't like he wasn't going to get stared at for the soaked hair and hoodie anyway.

His head was pounding as he walked to his class, almost half an hour late, and he would have skipped it if it wasn't History and if he didn't need to talk to his teacher about retaking the last test. Mr. Burke looked annoyed when Gerard entered the classroom with a muttered apology, and he was sure he was going to get detention on top of everything else, but all he got was a sympathetic nod, and he retreated to an empty desk in the back, ignoring all the looks.

Just another half hour. He could do that. Then he could go home.

*

Gerard spent the afternoon and evening studying and working on a Biology paper he had messed up a month ago. He moped for a while at first, showered for forty minutes, brushed his teeth ten times and rinsed with mouth wash and water until he thought he was going to throw up again and swallowing down some Tylenol to kill the pain in his head.

His mother was working the night shift so there wasn't going to be any dinner, but Gerard headed upstairs and made himself some sandwiches and brought them back down to his room along with some orange juice. He didn't talk to Mikey, or his dad; he didn't really need to. Mikey had seen what state he was in on the way home, and Gerard trusted him to let their dad know why Gerard was locking himself in the basement.

He did study, though. He wasn't going to give up on that just because someone had used his head, not only as a sledgehammer, but also as a toilet-brush. He was going to study and work hard to get his grades up, if not for himself, then for his mother. He was going to do it, even if his first assignment in Biology happened to be the most stupid thing ever, which is why he had failed the first time he did it.

"Describe a day in the life of the red blood cell Rory! Oh how exciting!" Gerard groaned to himself and started writing. Not only did he have to write this thing, but he had to make it at least one page long, preferably two since he was already behind and had failed his first attempt. It wasn't that he wasn't good at Biology either, he was just as good as all the other average students, but he felt like the assignment was meant for fifth graders or something. A fictional story about a red blood cell called Rory? Really?

He finally finished around ten thirty, printed the damn thing without proofreading it and shoved it into his bag, hoping to never have to think about it again. His head was pounding again, hurting so much he could hardly think, so he popped a few more Tylenol and got ready for bed. As he climbed into bed, he wondered if he might have a concussion, or if his brain was bleeding and he was going to die in his sleep.

He was interrupted by an urgent knocking on his door, not the one to his room, but the one leading outside, which was strange because it was eleven pm on a Monday night and he had not asked any of his friends to come over, and they were the only ones who used that door.

He got up anyway, though, pulling his PJ bottoms up from where they had slid down, and putting on the first t-shirt he spots, inside out and backwards. The floor was freezing in the little hallway outside his room, and it didn't get any better when he opened the door and found Frank.

"Oh," was all he could say at first, and then, when Frank didn't reply, he said, "What are you doing here?"

Frank had been the last person he had expected to see standing outside his door, Gerard hadn't even thought about him at all ever since he got beat up in the bathroom at school. Fitting Frank into his newly busy schedule wasn't one of his top priorities, at least not when he had just had his head smashed in.

But there he was, wearing his leather jacket and tight jeans, hair falling into his face and looking gorgeous as ever. He had his hands in his pockets and shrugged, shaking his head a little to flick his hair out of his eyes. It was a total girl move and Gerard almost smiled.

"You weren't at the bar," Frank said, stating the obvious. "So I thought— I mean, I think we should talk." He shuffled his feet around a little, and Gerard shivered and crossed his arms over his chest. "Can I come in? You look cold."

Gerard didn't say anything, but sighed and stepped aside to let Frank in. He closed the door behind him and reached for the light switch which he hadn't bothered with before. Frank reached out to touch his arm, and Gerard flinched at the cold touch and Frank pulled back.

"Are you mad at me?" Frank looked hurt, and Gerard almost felt guilty.

"I'm tired, okay? I've had a really long, really fucking bad day, and I'm exhausted," Gerard spat, raising his gaze and really looking at Frank for the first time that night. He looked tired too, and a little disappointed. His eyes were big, dark and beautiful.

"I'm sorry about the other night. I know Ryan and Brendon freaked you out, and I—" Frank stopped suddenly, and Gerard could tell that he had spotted the red cut on his forehead, just below his hairline on the left side of his face. There was a huge bump and it hurt like hell, and Gerard was almost a little surprised it had taken so long for Frank to notice it.

"What happened?" he asked, reaching up before Gerard could stop him, his cold fingertips soothing against his skin.

"Like I said, I've had a really bad day," Gerard whispered, staring into Frank's eyes. He was so tired, more tired than he could remember ever being, his eyes hurt and his eyelids were so heavy he could barely hold them up. He let them fall shut for just a moment and, when he opened them, Frank was standing close, so close he could smell a faint whiff of smoke in his breath.

Frank's hand dropped from his forehead to his cheek as he whispered, "I can make it better if you let me," lips already touching Gerard's in a soft kiss. Gerard sighed and pulled back after a moment, turning his head away.

"Frank," he whispered, and sighed again as Frank's lips skimmed over his throat.

He already was up against the wall, but Frank's hand on his chest kept him there whilst the other turned his face back to Frank. He kissed him again, still softly, but with more intent. "Gee, if you're hurting, I want to make you feel better."

Frank kissed him again and again, sometimes sliding his mouth down over Gerard's throat, and he could feel it as Frank's lips got warmer against his skin. That's when he kissed back, when Frank's mouth was hot and wet against his, tongue slipping out to meet Gerard's as he opened up.

Gerard was beginning to relax for the first time all day, but he was still shivering because of how cold the hallway was, and as Frank slid a hand into his hair he hissed and pushed Frank away. "Don't—" he started, a little breathless. "Don't touch my hair, okay?"

Frank smiled and nodded, seemingly relived that that's was all it was, and leaned in for another kiss. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you want." He curled his fingers around the back of Gerard's neck instead and pulled off for a moment to whisper against his lips.

"Then let's go to my room," Gerard whispered back and pushed off the wall, wrapping both arms around Frank's back to keep him close.

After that they weren't going slow and gentle anymore, but fast and hard, and Gerard was getting very hard very fast. He lost his shirt on their way into the room, and Frank's jacket and shirt were discarded seconds later. He pushed Gerard up against the wall, and Gerard was careful not to bang his head against it, even as Frank was mouthing at his collarbone, making him want to throw his head back.

He was squeezing Frank's shoulders, not knowing what to do with his hands, when Frank suddenly kissed him again and, without any warning whatsoever, pulled his PJ bottoms down, leaving Gerard in dark blue briefs. Frank wasn't touching him, he just pressed his thigh up against Gerard's hard on in this really teasing way, and Gerard decided that he had just had enough. He practically ripped Frank's belt apart, and grinned gleefully as he popped the button and unzipped his fly and just stuck his hand down Frank's boxers.

Gerard had never touched another guy's cock before. He had never even seen another guy's cock up close before, and now he was touching Frank's, and it felt so strange. It kind of felt like his own, but from a different angle, and somehow it felt like it was so much more. It felt hotter, slicker and smoother, maybe a little bigger too, or perhaps it was just thicker? It was weird, but it was also totally awesome, and Frank was moaning against his lips and shoving his jeans and boxers down his thighs to give Gerard more room.

He was also shoving Gerard's boxers down and wrapping his hand around Gerard's throbbing dick, and that's when Gerard really lost it.

"Oh my God, Frank. Fuck." He was panting, he couldn't breathe properly, and he just barely remembered not to slam his head back against the door. He leaned forward instead, pressing his sweaty forehead against Frank's without putting any pressure on the bump.

There was something romantic about it, although he couldn't quite put his finger on what that was. He had never thought hand jobs could be even a little romantic before, but maybe it was them looking into each other's eyes as they jerked each other hard and fast, Frank swiping his thumb over Gerard's head every other stroke, making him choke on a moan.

Gerard wasn't really doing much; he couldn't concentrate on anything but the feel of Frank's hand on his cock and Frank's dark eyes staring him down, full of lust and sex. He was squeezing a little more with every second, moving his hand as fast as he possibly could, but Frank seemed determined not to come before Gerard, and the teenager soon had to give in to the overwhelming feeling that was pulling at him in every cell of his body.

He gave no warning, just moaned Frank's name and came for what seemed like a really long time. Frank didn't seem to mind, though, he just grunted something incoherent and thrust into Gerard's hand for another long moment before catching Gerard's lips in a kiss and coming, hot and sticky all over Gerard's hand.

It was weird, just like touching Frank's dick had been, to have Frank's come on his hand, but it was mostly exciting. He had gotten another guy off, had given a _hand job_ and received one as well, and he felt amazing all over.

"Oh my God," he murmured breathlessly, carefully leaning his head back against the door. He watched Frank through half-lidded eyes, watched as he disappeared out of sight when he crouched down to pick a random shirt of the floor to clean them off with. Gerard didn't mind; he had lots of shirts, and half of them were on his floor and already dirty.

He didn't move as Frank cleaned him off and then pulled his boxers and PJ bottoms back up for him, and he didn't move as Frank wiped himself off and pulled his own boxers up, but he moved when Frank pressed close, nuzzling the side of his neck and wrapping his arms around Gerard's waist. He wrapped his arms around Frank's shoulders, holding him close, and leaned his head against the top of Frank's.

"Has anyone ever told you how nice you smell?" Frank muttered with his nose poking into Gerard's throat.

"It's because I don't smoke," Gerard told him, not answering the question.

"Yeah. It's nice." Gerard could feel Frank smiling.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, but however nice it was, Gerard was soon reminded of how exhausted he was. "I have to go to bed," he said regretfully with a sigh, and Frank pulled back.

"Oh yeah, yeah of course. I'm sorry." He reached down for his jeans, but Gerard stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and said, "You could stay." He was wearing a hopeful expression and moved his hand to Frank's shin and pulled him back up and in for a soft kiss.

"I can't stay all night," Frank protested, and it was as if Gerard had already been expecting that, but he didn't know why.

"Just stay a while, then." He didn't even know why he wanted Frank to stay so badly. Just an hour ago he had wanted him to leave.

"Okay, whatever you want." Frank kissed him again, and then Gerard untangled himself, and went to the bathroom with the excuse that he needed to pee, which he did, but he mostly just wanted to properly wash his hands.

When he returned to his room, Frank had stepped out of his jeans and shoes and folded all of his clothes up and placed them on the chair by Gerard's desk. He was standing right next to it, looking at the wall where Gerard had pinned some photos and drawings.

"You really are talented, you know that, right?" Frank turned to him, but Gerard just shrugged and went to the bed instead.

"Coming?" he asked, crawling in under the covers, and Frank smiled and nodded before joining him.

Gerard had never been spooned before, and wasn't quite sure how to ask for it, but Frank got the hint pretty quickly when he turned on his side, facing away from him. It was warm under the covers, Gerard's back sweaty where it met Frank's chest, but it wasn't uncomfortable. He could feel Frank's heartbeat against his spine, and Frank's breathing against his neck, and it was all just very nice.

"Gee, what happened today?" Frank asked after a while, breaking the moment. "With your head?"

Gerard sighed for the umpteenth time that night, but placed his right hand on top of Frank's where it was pressing against Gerard's stomach. "You know those guys you beat up?"

"Yeah," Frank breathed out shakily.

"I guess you could say that we're all even now." He felt Frank take a sharp intake of breath, and his grip on Gerard's waist tightened, but then he seemed to relax again and kissed Gerard's neck.

"I'm sorry." Frank sighed and shifted a little behind Gerard who rolled over, turning to face him.

"Don't be," he murmured, not looking at Frank's face, but at the weird tattoo on his chest. He traced it with his fingers, the web-like wings spreading out on either side of... something. Gerard couldn't tell what it was, and he didn't want to ask. It looked like a missile, or a bomb, but something was off about it. The tattoo covered Frank's entire chest, going all the way up to his collarbone where letters formed a necklace. Gerard couldn't read what it said, so he kept looking and found more letters, forming a five-letter word just above Frank's left nipple. Then Gerard realized after a moment that it wasn't just a word, but a name.

"Who's Jamia?" he asked, dragging his thumb across the tattoo and finally looking up at Frank.

"A girl." It wasn't the reply Gerard wanted, and he could tell that Frank knew that. Frank was watching him, searching him for a reaction.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"We were engaged," Frank replied, closing his eyes, "a long time ago. She's gone now."

"You loved her," Gerard whispered, stating the obvious, although it didn't really feel like he was. He knew Frank had a history, that he had had relationships in the past, but admitting that felt strange.

"Yes, I did." Frank opened his eyes and smiled, and Gerard wasn't sure why, but he was suddenly struck by an unanswered question that Gerard realized he had never even thought to ask before.

"Frank, how old are you?" he asked, not caring about how rude it sounded. Once he had started thinking about it, he couldn't let it go; he was too curious. Frank had to be older than him, Gerard knew that, but all of the tattoos and the fact that Frank had been engaged _a long time ago_ made it seem like he could be really old.

Frank laughed a short, loud laugh that was maybe more of a snort. "I probably shouldn't tell you. I don't wanna scare you off."

"With your arthritis and fake teeth?" Gerard teased, and Frank laughed again.

"Yes, with my fake teeth," Frank grinned and caught Gerard by surprise when he scooted closer and wrapped him up in a tight embrace.

"You're not gonna have a heart attack if I kiss you, right?" Gerard whispered, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Frank's hair, tugging his face closer and closer until their lips brushed and Frank breathed out a quick "No."

The kiss was different from all the previous ones that night, not leading up to anything, just happening right then and there. They rolled over so that Frank was on top, pinning him down, and just kissed.

"I thought you said you were tired," Frank murmured against Gerard's lips, right before slipping his tongue into Gerard's mouth and deepening the kiss.

"I thought _you_ were gonna tell me how old you are," Gerard whispered back when they came up for air the next time, grinning and tugging on Frank's hair to pull him back down.

"Fine!" Frank laughed seconds later, pulling away and lying down on his side next to Gerard, head propped up on his elbow. "Don't tell me I didn't warn you," he said, moving his free hand over Gerard's chest in slow circles.

"I can handle it. I think," Gerard said. "Though I might be a little weirded out if you have like, five ex-wives and kids who are older than me." He curled a hand around the back of Frank's neck and brought him in for another kiss, and smiled.

"I'm twenty-six." Frank looked at him expectantly. "I'm going to be twenty-seven later this year."

They were still so close, Gerard could feel Frank's breath on his face and he was sure Frank could feel his heartbeat where his hand was still resting on Gerard's chest. He wasn't sure what to say, or even what to think, he was just shocked. He had expected Frank to be twenty-three or twenty-four at the most, and this, this felt as if it might be too much.

"Gee," Frank whispered, nudging Gerard's nose with his own.

"That's a lot," Gerard replied, not meeting Frank's eyes. "That's... eight years." Frank kissed him, softly and with their lips closed, and Gerard sighed. "Why—" he started, but realized he didn't know what to ask.

"Why... am I going out with a High School—soon to be College—student?" Frank asked himself, guessing what Gerard had been about to say.

"Yeah." Gerard nodded, urging him to go on and answer him.

"Because I like you." He said it as if it was the simplest, most obvious thing in the world, and Gerard couldn't help the blush spreading over his cheeks.

"I like you too." He blushed even harder, but Frank was grinning and kissing him, pressing him down into the mattress.

They fell back into the making out that they had been doing before, kissing like it didn't matter what happened next, and Gerard never wanted Frank to leave. He was getting more and more tired again, though, and his head was starting to pound increasingly. He was also really thirsty after all the kissing they had been doing.

"I think it's time for me to go," Frank said when he noticed how sleepy Gerard actually was. "I should let you sleep." He disentangled himself from Gerard and sat up on the edge of the bed, stroking Gerard's hair out of his face.

"You should stay," Gerard objected, latching on to Frank's hand. "I'd really like it if you stayed."

"I can't," Frank said in what Gerard thought was a regretful tone. He hoped it was; he really wanted Frank to stay.

"Hey, can you bring me a glass of water and some Tylenol? I think I left it out by the sink," Gerard asked when Frank stood up and let go of his hand.

"Sure," he said, and Gerard pretended not to stare at Frank's practically naked body where it disappeared into the bathroom. He was only wearing tight black boxers, and his legs were full of tattoos, just like the rest of his body. Gerard thought he spotted something that looked like the Misfits logo on one of his calves.

When Frank returned, handing Gerard the glass of water and the pills, Gerard watched him get dressed while he swallowed the pills down and drank his water. Frank looked really good without a shirt on, but he looked really good with it and his leather jacket on as well.

Once he was fully dressed and had his shoes laced up, Frank came back over to the bed and took the glass out of Gerard's hands and placed it on the nightstand. "Hey," he said, pulling Gerard forward from where he was sitting propped up against the headboard.

"Hey," he whispered back, opening his mouth for Frank to kiss.

"See you tomorrow?" Frank asked when he pulled away the first time.

"If you want to come by," Gerard said, a little hesitant. "I didn't tell you, did I? I'm kind of grounded," he explained. "I'm failing some classes, so I have to study a lot more, and my mom is maybe freaking out a little because of all of these murders, so she doesn't want us to go out as much."

"I guess I could help you study then," Frank replied with a grin, leaning in for another kiss. Gerard didn't bother saying anything else, just let Frank kiss the last ounces of energy out of him.

"See you tomorrow?" he finally said, pulling back with seriously drooping eyelids.

"Yeah. Goodnight, Gee. Sweet dreams." Frank pecked his lips a final time, and then he kissed the cut on Gerard’s forehead, letting his lips linger there for a long time.

"Goodnight Frankie. Make sure the door locks behind you, okay?"

He snuggled down under the covers and already had his eyes closed when Frank replied with a faint "Yeah," and he was already half asleep when he heard first the door to his room close, and then the door outside.

He tried to stay awake for at least a little while, just so he could think about the awful day he had had, and how Frank had come around and made it so much better, but the Tylenol was kicking in and killing the pain, and there was nothing else keeping him from sleep.

*

**Thursday, February 10th 2011**

"Hey, are you still going to be grounded tomorrow?" Frank asked suddenly, looking up from where he was lying on Gerard's bed. He lay on his stomach, head resting on top of his crossed arms, and his face was relaxed and beautiful. Gerard wondered how he did that, because whenever Gerard did that himself, lay with his face pressed into a pillow or his arm, his face would get scrunched up and it would just be uncomfortable.

"Huh?" he muttered in reply after a long moment, realizing he hadn't said anything and only half-remembering what Frank had asked him in the first place. He tended to be a little bit distracted when Frank looked at him like that, eyes all big and dark, staring him down like he wanted to eat Gerard alive.

"Tomorrow's Friday," Frank stated, as if Gerard didn't know that. "You won't have any homework to do, at least not any that can't wait another day. So I was wondering if you'll still be grounded."

"Mom's still worried about the murders," Gerard said distractedly, flipping a page in his history book. His mother was right to be worried about the murders, though, as there had been two more over the last few days. The press wasn't as crazy about it anymore, so there wasn't a lot about it in the papers, but they got their info from Mrs. Way's friend, and Mikey and Pete still discussed it all the time.

"And she doesn't really like Bachmeier's, so I doubt she'll let me go out even if I ask," he added, looking up at Frank who was still staring at him with those eyes.

Frank sat up suddenly, grabbing Gerard's hand to pull him closer. "I'm not asking for you to go Bachmeier's. I'm asking so that I can take you out. On a date." Before Gerard could react, Frank was kissing him, threading his fingers in Gerard's hair to hold him in place as he teased Gerard's lips apart with his tongue. "Not that I don't like hanging out here and helping you study, but I wanna take you out."

"On a _date_ ," Gerard repeated, putting emphasis on the last word.

Frank grinned and shifted around so that Gerard was kneeling in between his spread legs. "Yeah," he whispered, pecking Gerard's lips. "I was thinking movie," he said, voice all breathy, before pausing as he ran his fingers over Gerard's arms. "Coffee," he continued, mouthing at Gerard's jawline before coming back up, breathing almost into Gerard's mouth. His eyes were all intense, and Gerard understood why when he finally finished his sentence by whispering, "Sex."

Gerard's brain hadn't even processed what Frank was saying before he had Frank's tongue in his mouth and was being pulled down to sprawl on top of him. He kicked out as a reflex and just barely managed to keep from kneeing Frank in the crotch, and he pulled out of the kiss just to be on the safe side. He couldn't think when Frank was all over him like that, when Frank was saying things like _that_.

"Gee, relax." Frank smiled up at him and kissed him softly, but Gerard still pulled back, sitting up at the end of the bed with his knees folded up in front of him. "I don't wanna push you into anything. I'm fine doing what we've been doing, even if I do maybe want to try some new things soon."

Frank moved up to sit next to Gerard while he talked, placing one arm around his back and the other on his knees. "Yeah?" Gerard asked, and Frank replied with a kiss. "That's good, because I don't think I'm really ready for that." He blushed, but it didn't matter because Frank was kissing him again. "I'd like to try that other stuff some time, though," he admitted, and Frank laughed.

They had fooled around a lot, and jerked each other off, and kind of humped it out like they did that first time, which wasn't even a week ago, Gerard realized when he thought about it. Everything was happening so fast, and they were seeing each other every night, and Gerard was crazy about Frank, but they still hadn't gotten to blowjobs. Frank had definitely tried the last time they got each other off, which was the previous night, but Gerard totally loved it when Frank jerked him off, so when Frank jerked him off, Gerard needed to jerk Frank off, and he couldn't imagine stopping just to do something else. So both of them had come before Frank could get his mouth on Gerard's dick. It wasn't that he didn't want Frank to blow him, because he really fucking did, but he also really wanted to get Frank off.

Gerard giggled a little at the thought of the awkward situation, and Frank nudged him, maybe to share the joke, or just to get his attention, which he got.

"You know, we could try it now, if you don't mind." Frank smirked, drawing him in with his eyes, and Gerard shuddered.

"Oh really? And what if I do mind?" Gerard teased, reaching out to tuck a piece of Frank's hair behind his ear. It was a small, simple gesture, but he liked doing things like that, even in situations like this.

"Then I'll just have to convince you." Frank was still smirking, and his eyes, oh his eyes seemed to be about ten minutes ahead of them in time, because if Gerard had been asked to describe Frank in that moment he would have said that Frank was fucking him with his eyes or something.

Before Gerard had had a chance to ask _how_ Frank was going to convince him, Frank had moved so that he was in front of Gerard and pulled him forward so that there was room for him to lie back without his head dangling off the edge of the bed. Then his shirt was tugged up and off, and he could just watch as Frank took his own shirt off as well, uncovering his tattoos.

Gerard was hard, not hard like he was going to die right then and there if his cock didn't get any attention, but he was hard, and he could tell that Frank was too. When Frank kissed him, he couldn't help but to run a hand over his chest, tracing the web-like part of the strange tattoo, dragging his thumb over Frank's ex-fiancé's name and pinching his right nipple.

Frank didn't let him, though, but caught his hands and moved them away from his chest and down towards the bed. "Hey, just lay back, okay? Just let me do this for you." Frank's voice was breathless and his mouth was hot against Gerard's lips, and he couldn't say no to any of that, so he did as he was told. His hair was hanging off the edge of the bed; Frank was pressing his hands down against the bed, holding them there while his mouth moved down over his throat.

"Frank," he gasped when Frank's tongue dipped into the hollow at the base of his throat, and he couldn't help the soft moan escaping him when Frank dug his thumbnails into his wrists, not so hard that it hurt, but hard enough to make him feel it in his toes.

Frank licked his chest, and Gerard was about to let out a string of expletives when he was suddenly interrupted by the door opening, and Mikey's voice saying, "I know I'm not supposed to disturb you when you're studying, but I was wondering if you know where grandma's golden cross necklace is?"

Gerard had already been looking at his brother for several seconds when Mikey finally tore his gaze from the Buffy comic book he was reading and looked at Gerard. And Frank. Not saying another word, Mikey walked straight back out, closing the door behind him.

Gerard just wanted to die.

He was still staring at the closed door when Frank snickered, just inches from his ear, and he shook himself out of the shock of having just been walked in on, and struggled to sit up. Frank made an unhappy noise, but sat back, straddling Gerard's thighs, still snickering and wearing a stupid grin.

"God, Gee, your face! Your brother's face!" Frank laughed and Gerard slapped his arm playfully, feeling his face heat up.

"It's not funny! What if he had come in here five minutes later? What if that had been my mom?" Gerard exclaimed, his heart pounding in his chest. Frank didn't say anything, just kissed him, which was even more annoying than the laughing and grinning.

"Get a lock on your door. You might not have needed one before, but trust me when I say that from now on, you will need it." He pulled Gerard back in for another kiss, cupping his cheeks and stroking his face and gently laying him back down, and it felt amazing, it really did, but Gerard just couldn't.

"Frank, I—" He propped himself up on one elbow, placing his other hand on Frank's chest, and he felt the sigh there. "Mikey just walked in on us. I can't just... get right back into it." He flushed bright red again.

"Gerard, I highly doubt that he's going to come back," Frank said matter-of-factly, still stroking Gerard's cheeks with his thumbs.

"I know that! But I just can't. I'm sorry, Frank." He placed one hand over Frank's, lacing their fingers as he sat up straighter to kiss Frank. "Maybe we should just go to your place next time?" Frank's place was something Gerard had yet to see, and although it wasn't exactly bothering him, he was getting curious about it.

"I've told you, my place is a mess. You don't wanna go there." Frank drew back, just like he always did when Gerard asked to go to Frank's apartment or house, or whatever Frank's place was. Gerard wouldn't have cared if it was a fucking cave, he just wanted to know where it was so that he could find Frank if he ever needed to.

He still didn't have Frank's phone number either, which was even more unsettling. He hadn't asked for it because he hadn't had a reason to need it, and Frank hadn't shown any interest in having Gerard's number, so they were both still numberless.

Then, when they sat there in a slightly awkward silence, he thought about it, and he found himself a reason.

"About going out tomorrow, you know, the _date_ ," Gerard started, and Frank immediately looked up. "I have to ask my parents, and I won't be able to do that until tomorrow, so how about I call you and let you know?"

Frank sighed, shaking his head. "Gee, I can just come over here and see what they say, and then we'll either go out, or we won't."

"Why won't you let me have your phone number? Do you think I'm going to turn into some chick and text you every five minutes? That I'm gonna phone-stalk you or whatever? Because I hardly ever even text my friends, so that's not gonna be a problem." Gerard couldn't not say it, it just came out of him, but he regretted it the moment he was done, feeling much like he had when he had complained about Frank's friends the previous Saturday.

"I don't have a phone. I don't have a use for it and it would just be a waste of money."

"What about email?" Frank shook his head. "Can I at least have your address so I can find you if I ever need to see you?"

"You know where I work. You can find me there six out of seven nights a week." Frank sounded tired and looked even worse, supporting his head in his hands.

"What about daytime?" Gerard asked quietly, feeling so far away from the man he had been so close to just half an hour earlier. "What are you hiding from me? Are you homeless? If you have problems, you can tell me. I want to help you." He curled up where he was sitting, wrapping his arms around his bent legs. "Just tell me."

"Gee," Frank said, letting out a heavy sigh and getting up from where he was sitting to walk over and sit next to Gerard and wrap his arms around him. "There's nothing to tell," he whispered, gently turning Gerard's face to look at him.

Frank worked his eye magic on him, Gerard could tell. He was drowning in those dark eyes, those dark pools of nothing. He was drawn into deep bottomless pits, and it felt awful for a moment. It felt scary, terrifying and just plain awful, until Frank smiled. The smile was like the sun coming in through dark, thick veils, lighting everything up again, picking Gerard up again and carrying him out of those dark pits. The smile made all the difference.

"Trust me, Gee," Frank said, smiling brightly as he reached up and brushed some hair out of Gerard's face.

He didn't have any reason not to trust Frank. There was a nagging feeling deep in the pit of his stomach that was telling him not to trust him, but he couldn't put his finger on why. If Frank said that there was nothing to tell, then he was telling the truth.

"I trust you, Frank. I'm sorry." Frank just smiled wider and pulled him in for a kiss.

"It's okay." They kissed again, Gerard feeling strangely lost in Frank's warm embrace. "I should go, you look tired." Frank pulled away and stood up, reaching for his shirt that he hadn't put back on before. Gerard realized he wasn't wearing his shirt either and crossed his arms over his chest while he looked for it on the floor.

"You can stay, you know," he suggested when he spotted the Iron Maiden logo next to the bed, leaning down and picking it up.

"No. If you were freaked out when you brother walked in before, imagine your mom coming to wake you up in the morning and finding another man in your bed." Frank was smiling, and Gerard couldn't help but smile at the idea as he was putting on his shirt, as well.

"Fine. But I'll see you tomorrow." He leaned against his desk and watched as Frank sat back down on the bed to put his shoes on.

"Yes, 'cause we have a date." Frank grinned and stood up, shrugging into his jacket as he stepped over to Gerard and reached up to kiss him. It always surprised Gerard when they stood up and kissed after having made out, lying or sitting on Gerard’s bed for a long time, that Frank was several inches shorter than him. It was weird.

"Goodnight," he murmured against Frank's lips, leaning down as Frank wrapped his arms around his neck.

"Goodnight," Frank replied, walking backwards into the hallway and to the door, still attached to Gerard's lips. "Goodnight, Gee. See you tomorrow."

They kissed for a few more minutes until they finally managed to let go, and Gerard felt a little strange when he watched Frank disappear and closed the door behind him. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, but he felt oddly uncertain about something.

*

**Friday, February 11th 2011**

Gerard was in the kitchen, drinking coffee, enjoying the rare peace and quiet of the house. His parents were both at work, and Mikey and Pete were in the house, but somewhere Gerard couldn't see or hear or be disturbed by them.

He had been having a decent day so far, as he had gotten the Biology assignment back and passed, and had only been shoved against a locker once by Saporta. He had also asked his dad if he could go to the movies that night, and gotten an okay. His mother wouldn't be happy about that, but it was easier to get his dad to say yes, and he didn't have to tell him who he was going out with. His mother would have needed to meet Frank and interrogate and torture him for at least twenty-four hours before agreeing to anything.

Peace and quiet could only last for so long, though, and Gerard wasn't exactly surprised when he heard Pete's voice talking about something way too loud. He couldn't hear much of what he was actually saying, but he caught the word 'garlic' in there, and decided they were talking about vampires as usual.

Then, when they reached the doorway to the kitchen and spotted Gerard, they fell silent all of a sudden. Apparently the vampire hunting was for members of Pete and Mikey's not so secret club now.

"Hi," Mikey said, looking from Gerard to the coffee and back. "Didn't know you were up here."

"Well, I am." Gerard replied and sipped his coffee while Pete walked over and sat in a chair.

"So, Mikey told me you and Frank did it like, upside down last night," Pete said, leaning forward on his elbows. Gerard could see Mikey going flaming red in the corner of his eye, and he wasn't looking any better himself.

"So what if we did?" he replied, staring sharply at his half-empty mug. He knew Pete wasn't really interested in his sex life. He was just trying to get Gerard to leave so that Mikey and he could discuss their vampire hunting adventures without Gerard around to mock them.

Pete wasn't expecting that response, though, and just sat there, looking baffled. Then he came to his senses and asked the next personal and intrusive question that came to mind. "Isn't he like really old?"

Gerard hadn't told anyone what he had found out about Frank's age. His friends would just worry or mock him, and Pete would make perverted suggestions.

"No." Gerard sighed and Pete opened his mouth for another annoying question, and Gerard decided to just leave. "Whatever. I'll leave you morons alone to discuss your important plans. Because I," he paused as he stood up, walked over to the sink and poured out the cold coffee, and finally said, "have a hot date."

He watched Mikey and Pete exchange a look, but neither of them said anything, so Gerard left.

As he walked down the stairs, he came to think of the previous night and Mikey walking in on him and Frank, not doing it upside down, as Pete had put it, but on the wrong side of the bed. He blushed at the memory, thankful that there was no one around to see it, and as he entered his room he remembered what Mikey had wanted. He had been asking about their grandmother's golden cross, had wanted to know if Gerard knew where it was, which was a ridiculous question because Gerard loved that necklace and knew exactly where it was. His grandma had given it to him just before she died three years ago, and he had made it a tradition to wear it on the day of her death.

Mikey knew that, and Mikey should have known that next Friday was that day, and that he didn't need to worry about the necklace. It was safe in the back of a drawer of Gerard's nightstand, placed in a small black velvet jewelry box.

He got it out and opened the tiny black box as he closed the drawer again, admiring the smooth gold that he had once been so used to seeing around his grandmother's neck. It was simple, without many details, and small, not even an inch tall, but it was so pretty and reminded him of home and of his family and everything that that meant.

It was getting a little late, though, and he had to get ready for his date with Frank, so he closed the box and left it at his desk.

*

The date was amazing. Really, everything about it was amazing. Frank was amazing, he looked gorgeous, the movie was awesome, sitting in the back of the theater, kissing every now and then, that was perfect, and going for coffee afterwards was really cozy and nice. They walked hand in hand, starting off at a slow pace but speeding up until they were practically running, and stopped, out of breath, and kissed up against a brick wall.

"Fuck, Frank," Gerard gasped at the same time as Frank muttered, "Gee, fuck. I want you so fucking bad."

It was dangerous, what they were doing, kissing out in the open like that, when there were crazy murderers running around, as well as Gerard's homophobic bullies, but they didn't care. Gerard might have cared if he had been thinking, but Frank was pressing up against him, pulling him close, and he couldn't think about anything else. He couldn't think about anything but Frank's tongue, still hot from the coffee they had just had, invading his mouth and touching all of the good spots in there.

"Come on, let's go," Frank said after ten minutes of making out, breaking off and taking Gerard's hand. He could hardly process what was going on, he was too kissed out, not to mention hard as a rock and not in any shape to keep walking home. They were about five minutes away still, and that was at a normal pace, which Gerard now wasn't sure he could keep at.

"Yeah, yeah, come on." He pushed himself off of the wall and put on a brave face. He needed to be in his room now, or he was going to come in his pants just from the pressure of his jeans on his dick, and that was not an option.

They made it, though, to the door and inside, and even into Gerard's room while they were kicking shoes off and shrugging out of jackets and hoodies and tearing off shirts. They made it onto the bed, still kissing like it was oxygen and they needed it to breathe, Gerard still seconds away from coming in his pants. Frank was there, though, fiddling with Gerard's belt buckle, getting it opened before moving on to his fly.

Then Gerard was really confused for about thirty seconds, because Frank pulled away, really suddenly and sat back at the other end of the bed. Gerard was a little angry there for a moment too, because he was rock hard and ready to go, and Frank was taking a fucking break? Then he looked at Frank for another long moment and noticed the pained expression on his face. Seconds later he noticed how flushed Frank's left shoulder and arm were, and even Gerard realized that it wasn't from embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" He sat up, flailing around a little because he had _no_ idea whatsoever of what to do when his boyfriend got some kind of weird rash-looking thing in the middle of making out. "What's wrong with your skin?"

He reached out to touch it and was surprised when it didn't feel hot. It was red, really red, and it should have been hotter than the rest of Frank's skin, but it wasn't. It was just red. It looked weird under all of his tattoos, his arms being half red, half black, and Gerard could only stare at it and try to think of something he could do for Frank. The only thing he could think of was to go and find some vitamin E cream, though, and he highly doubted that that would really be any help if Frank had some dangerous rash or a flesh-eating bacteria eating away at his arm.

"Don't worry," Frank's voice finally pierced Gerard's thoughts. "I think it's just an allergy attack."

"An allergy attack?" Gerard echoed, glancing up at Frank's face briefly before looking down at his shoulder again. "You're allergic? To what?"

"Uh, lots of things?" Frank replied like a question, as if he didn't really know. "It was probably something I ate."

"The muffin?" Gerard suggested, referring to the blueberry muffin they had shared when they had coffee.

"Yes, the muffin! Blueberries, I'm allergic to blueberries."

"Then why did you eat the muffin?" Gerard asked, because it really sounded kind of weird that Frank had eaten a blueberry muffin when he seemed to know that he was allergic to blueberries.

"I guess I wasn't really thinking, and you really wanted it." Frank looked at him sheepishly and shrugged. "Anyway, I guess I should go home, and maybe go and get this checked out. I mean, if it's not allergies and it's some other kind of rash, it could be infectious and I don't want you to get it."

"Oh, you could stay, you know? But if you want to go to the hospital then I guess you should. Do you want me to come with you? I could drive you there," Gerard offered, but Frank shook his head and scooted closer.

"No, I'll be fine." He cupped Gerard cheek and kissed him softly. "I'm sorry about this, that our date had to end this way."

"It's not your fault."

"It is, I shouldn't have eaten the blueberries," Frank said, laughing, and Gerard kissed him again before they got up off the bed and picked Frank's shirt up from the floor.

"Do you think you'll come over tomorrow?" Gerard handed Frank the shirt and went on to search for his shoes.

"I'm working late, so it depends on how I'm feeling afterwards." Frank tugged the shirt on, finally covering the irritated skin up, and Gerard could stop staring at it. There was a small voice at the back of his head, telling him that there was something weird about the whole thing, but now that he wasn't looking at the rash-thing, he didn't have to think about it.

"Sunday?" Gerard asked, but Frank just shrugged and made a face that said the same thing that he had just said out loud. "Monday?"

"I'll wait and see how I'm feeling, but I'll probably come over. I could help you study again." Frank looked up and smiled as he tied his shoelaces.

"Okay, sounds good." Gerard grinned and extended a hand to help Frank up, pulling him all the way in for a kiss. "I'll miss you, though. Tomorrow, and on Sunday." He pressed his forehead against Frank's and pouted a little.

"It'll make us want it more, you know. When we finally see each other." Frank smirked and wrapped his arms around Gerard's waist, one hand slipping down to squeeze his ass.

"You think we're seeing each other too much? That we're spending too much time together?" Gerard hadn't thought about it before, but now that he was he realized that they were spending a lot of time together. Frank had been over every night since Monday, and the week before that, Frank had walked him home almost every night. They hadn't known each other for more than a few weeks. Frank hadn't been in town for more than a few weeks.

"Gee, no. I don't think we're spending too much time together. I'm just saying that in the long run, it might be better not to be together every day." His eyes were full of concern when they looked into Gerard's, searching for understanding, and then a look of relief came over his whole face when he found it.

"I like you, and I like what we have, and I don't want to ruin that by going too fast," Frank said softly and reached up to peck Gerard's lips.

"Yeah, of course, I agree. I mean, I like you too, and what we have. I just—" Gerard was rambling, but Frank shut him up by putting his tongue in Gerard's mouth, which he really didn't mind.

"Time to go," Frank finally said, and Gerard sighed. He was getting hard again from all the kissing, and he would have loved it if Frank stayed.

"Goodnight."

*

After a long, hot shower, Gerard ventured upstairs in need of a strong cup of coffee. He was less than happy about finding Mikey and Pete sitting at the kitchen table clutching coffee mugs of their own, squealing excitedly about whatever new vampire related discovery they had made. Gerard was starting to get really curious about why on earth they could never stay in Mikey's room and hang out there.

"Hey Gee, what's up? Why aren't you with Frank?" Mikey asked curiously when he spotted Gerard, and Pete peered up at him from his coffee, a strange look in his eyes.

Gerard didn't respond at first, just went over to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup. The one good thing about Mikey and Pete always hanging out in the kitchen was that they usually made lots of coffee. He sipped it and it was perfect—hot, but not so hot that he burned his tongue— and he turned around and leaned against the counter.

"He went home. He had some weird allergic reaction to a muffin. A muffin, seriously. Or well, the blueberries in the muffin, whatever." He closed his eyes. He didn't need to see Pete Wentz's stupid face.

"Oh, so he didn't come back here with you?" Gerard opened his eyes again, and he really wanted to know what was going on inside Pete's head because the expression on his face really didn't look right.

"Yeah, we did. We just barely made it inside the door and to the bed—" Gerard started, but was interrupted by Mikey who looked startled and more red than usual when he was embarrassed about something, "I don't need to hear that part, Gee."

"—before his skin got all weird," Gerard finished, rolling his eyes. "We didn't do anything because he left right away, just in case it wasn't allergies but something infectious. He went to the hospital to get it checked out."

"Did you say he was allergic to blueberries? From a muffin?" Pete asked, looking all secretive and thoughtful, or trying to, at least.

"Yeah, we shared a blueberry muffin like, half an hour earlier," Gerard explained, sipping his coffee again.

"I think allergic reactions happen faster than that, you know," Mikey piped up now that his skin color had returned to normal.

"And you know what that means?" Pete asked excitedly, looking at Mikey, before blurting out, "It was the garlic! He reacted to the garlic!"

"What?" was the first thing that Gerard could bring himself to say, then, "What the fuck are you talking about? What garlic? We didn't eat anything with garlic in it. I don't like food with too much garlic."

"He didn't have to eat it! He felt it," Pete said, still overly excited. He was practically bouncing in his seat. "We hid it in your room, in the drawer of your bedside table!"

Gerard felt his skin go cold, all the way from the hairline at the back of his neck down to the bottom of his spine. He shivered, and his hands trembled, and he wanted to punch Pete more than he had ever wanted to punch anyone in his life.

"You did what?" He said, still rather calm, but then he just let go. "You hid _garlic_ in my room? Where? What the fuck were you thinking? If that was what he was having an allergic reaction to you could have killed him! Do you two even know what happens when you have allergic reactions? Your throat can swell so that you can't breathe and you choke to death! You could have killed him because you are stupid little kids who're taking your fucking games too far!"

"You don't have allergic reactions to garlic because you're in the same room!" Pete yelled back. "He's a vampire! Why can't you just admit it? He reacted like that because he was inches away from garlic."

"You are sick!" Gerard's voice was breaking. He didn't have the energy to shout at fucking Pete Wentz. It was only a matter of time before one of his parents came to investigate the shouting anyway.

"Frank is not a vampire. Vampires don't exist," he said quietly, putting his coffee down and walking around the table and to the door. He didn't think they were going to say anything else, and he was halfway through the hallway when he heard Mikey's voice again.

"I know you got grandma's necklace out from wherever you usually hide it. You should wear it, Gerard. Around your neck where it can be of some use."

Gerard didn't look back or respond; he just kept walking and went back down to his room. When he did, he sat down on his bed and pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, which hadn't even been fully closed before.

He wasn't sure what to do with the garlic, although he was relieved that it was only one, and not a whole branch. He knew he needed to throw it away, but he didn't want to put it in the trash in his room since he might not have to empty it in a while, so he put his shoes and jacket on and threw it in the trashcans outside.

He got undressed and crawled into bed when he got back inside, feeling more confused than ever. He didn't know what had happened tonight. He didn't know whether he wanted to believe that Frank had had an allergic reaction to the blueberries, or that Frank had had an allergic reaction to the garlic and lied about the blueberries.

The only thing he really knew was that Frank couldn't be a vampire. It wasn't possible. Frank had a heartbeat. He was _alive._ He wasn't a vampire. Vampires didn't exist.

*

 

**Tuesday, November 15th, 2016**

It is already light out when Mikey returns to the house. His feet are aching and he's freezing, but it doesn't matter because now they have a place to start. Or, _he_ has a place to start. He's not sure what to do about the other guys, where they stand to where their loyalties lie.

They had come with him. They had gone all the way to Chicago, even Brian had wanted to come, but now that they are here, all that they're interested in is hanging out with these other guys. He can't understand what it is about Patrick and the others that is so interesting that Bob, Ray and even Pete have forgotten all about helping Mikey find and kill Frank.

The door is open when he tries it, and he's happy he doesn't have to face anyone else just yet. The light is on in the kitchen, but there's no one there, and he can't hear any sounds at all as he moves through the house, heading for the stairway in the other end.

He's on the fourth step when he hears a door behind him creak open, and he has reached the seventh when he hears Ray's sleepy voice. "Mikey? Are you back? Are you okay?"

He doesn't turn around or reply, but keeps walking, and after a few more moments he hears the door closing again.

He still doesn't want to face anyone, especially Pete after the huge fight they had before Mikey went out, but he had nowhere else to go but to the bedroom they're sharing. The door swings open silently, revealing a still dark room because the curtains are closed, and Mikey's eyes immediately fall on the lump of blankets on the nearest side of the bed. The blankets are pulled down a little, revealing Pete's familiar sleeping face, his dark hair all over it and the pillow.

He shuts the door just as quietly and steps around the bed to the other side. He undresses quickly and sets an alarm on his cell phone, not wanting to waste another day sleeping. He knows he needs to sleep a little, though, to be able to go back to the cemetery the next evening. It's the first time he's felt like he needs to sleep in a really long time. He never felt like he needed to sleep when he was just doing research. Pete ended up having to drag him into bed every other night.

Pete stirs when Mikey sits on the edge of the bed, but he doesn't seem to fully wake up. It's only when Mikey's lying down, snuggled up under the warm blankets on his side, facing away from the door, that Pete rolls over in the bed.

He mutters something that comes out as "Wuuh?" and then clears his throat before saying, "Mikey? Fuck, Mikey, are you okay?"

Mikey hears the sheets rustling, and then feels the heat of Pete's body pressed against his back. "I was so worried about you, thank God you're back. Are you okay?" Pete's breath is hot on Mikey's neck, and it tickles, but Mikey can't move. He's right at the edge of the bed already, and he's not about to move backwards, even to shove Pete off.

"If you're so fucking worried, you should have come with me," he says sharply, and he feels Pete tense up for a moment, before backing off so that there is at least a few inches of air between them.

It’s not long before Mikey falls asleep too, the exhaustion of the long night finally catching up with him.

*

The room is bright, and Mikey is alone when his phone goes off and he wakes up. He gets dressed quickly, not bothering with a shower, and when he gets downstairs it's just past noon. All of the guys are gathered in the kitchen, either sitting around the table or hanging at the counters, eating what looks like mac and cheese.

Pete looks up at him with big, sad eyes, but doesn't say anything. Brian shifts a little to the side, revealing the mac and cheese behind him on the counter, and Mikey accepts the invitation and takes the plate that's handed to him by a guy with long hair and glasses who Mikey is pretty sure is called Andy.

Still, no one has said anything, but then Ray goes, "Wow, sleep _and_ food. You must have made progress last night. Did you kill anything?"

Mikey can't find his voice at first, but after clearing his throat and taking a few bites, he manages to say, "No." They all look at him expectantly so he continues, "But I think I found their hiding place."

"Their?" Brian asks, looking confused.

"It's not just one or two. People are too afraid," Mikey explains, before turning to Andy who's still next to him. "There has been a lot of attacks here, hasn't there?"

"It started over a year ago," Andy says, nodding. "Lots of strange murders, but no murderer, and unexplained disappearances."

"There's been an increase in reported animal attacks, too, but everyone knows that's bullshit," Joe fills in from his spot in one of the corners.

"People are attacked in their homes." It's Patrick who speaks this time, and Mikey watches as Pete looks at him. They're sitting next to each other, hands lying mere inches away from one another at the table.

"Vampires," Pete whispers, looking up at Mikey, meeting his eyes.

"So, what exactly did you find?" Bob asks, taking control of the discussion.

"A cemetery. A really old one, with plenty of crypts and shit for them to live in."

"How do you know that's the spot?" Brian asks, looking more concerned than Mikey would have given him credit for.

"Because they were trying to chase me away. Or, well, they were either trying to scare me away or trying to lure me into a trap."

"How?" Pete and Patrick asked at the same time, and Mikey tried not to notice the looks the two exchanged.

"By leaving me notes written in Gee's handwriting."

Nobody speaks at first, but then Patrick, obviously having been filled in on what is going on and who Gee is, asks, "Do you guys think he's a vampire now, or what?"

Mikey meets Pete's eyes for three long seconds, which he counts, then he looks away and spits out, "No. No, he's dead."

*

**Saturday, February 12th 2011**

Gerard didn't stay mad at Mikey for very long, he never did. He lasted until noon the day after the garlic incident, when Mikey came down to his room to apologize. He had coffee and waffles with him, and Gerard instantly found it hard not to forgive him because he hadn't eaten anything that morning.

The coffee smelled delicious, and the waffles were seriously calling out for him with their sweet scent and the way they just begged to be gazed at. Gerard realized, after a short moment of hungry gazing, that it was Mikey bringing the breakfast down, which made him a little hesitant of whether he really wanted it or not.

"Did you make those?" he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the waffles.

"Yes," Mikey beamed, and Gerard got even more worried. "Don't worry, Mom helped me out and made sure I didn't burn them or put a spoonful of salt in the batter or anything."

"O-okay," Gerard finally said, still a little hesitant, but he let Mikey put the tray down on his lap where he was sitting on his bed, and put the sketchpad aside. He had been sketching vampires again. Real vampires. Evil vampires. Ugly vampires like Dracula.

The waffles tasted fine, or maybe even a little bit better than fine because he was so hungry. The coffee was fucking perfect, though, like it had been sent from Heaven with blessings from God and at least ten angels or something. It was the best coffee he had ever tasted.

"So, you know Mom and Dad are going out to have dinner with some friends tonight, right?" Mikey asked when Gerard had almost finished his late breakfast.

"Yeah, so what?"

"I invited Bob, Ray and Pete over. And Brian," Mikey said, lowering his gaze when he said Pete's name. "I was thinking we could watch movies and order pizza. Nothing with vampires, I promise."

He looked really sad and apologetic, his brown eyes big and a little watery behind his glasses, and Gerard had been a sucker for that look for Mikey's entire life.

"I'm really sorry about last night. I believe you if you say that Frank isn't a vampire. I really do, and Pete does too." He put a hand on top of Gerard's where it was clutching his coffee. "Just, don't be mad, okay?"

"Fine, whatever. Just, no more stupid talk about fucking vampires, okay?" It was worth a try, though Gerard knew that Mikey and Pete would keep talking about vampires for as long as the strange murders were going on.

"I promise," Mikey said, beaming, and Gerard laughed.

"Fucking moron."

*

Gerard ignored Pete the entire night, and he didn't talk much to Mikey either because he appeared to be glued to Pete's side. Bob and Ray stayed away as well once they caught up on Gerard's bad mood, and simply let him curl up in the corner of a couch with a huge bowl of popcorn and a can of coke.

Brian seemed like he wanted to talk to Gerard—unless it was all just Gerard's imagination that Brian was stealing glances of him, fiddling with his lip ring and biting his fingernails—but he had taken a seat in the armchair, and Mikey and Pete were taking up the space next to Gerard. It wasn't until three in the morning, when Mikey gave Pete a light shove and got up, announcing that they were going to bed, that Brian made a move and crawled on to the couch next to Gerard.

Bob and Ray were sleeping soundly on the other couch and Ray gave a loud snore just as Brian opened his mouth to say, "Hey, are you okay?" He placed a hand on Gerard's arm, giving it a soft squeeze before Gerard pulled it away as he removed the now empty popcorn bowl from his lap and placed it on the floor. Not answering, he shifted a little, turning so that he was sitting kind of on his side with one leg folded up underneath him, and the other leg folded up so that he could wrap an arm around it.

He leaned his head against the back of the couch and watched Brian mirror him before he answered, "I'm fine."

Brian let out a soft sigh and reached out to pat Gerard's arm again, before letting his hand slide down Gerard's arm to grasp his hand. "You don't look fine." He squeezed Gerard's hand, and it was weird to feel Brian's warm skin against his. It was comforting, but it felt a little too intimate, especially as their faces were mere inches apart.

"What are you thinking about?" Brian asked softly, and Gerard heaved a sigh.

"Everything. Frank, Mikey, Pete fucking Wentz." He closed his eyes and sighed again as Brian hummed in reply. "I've never had a boyfriend before," he explained in a quiet voice. "And I love it. I really like him, and I want it to last, but all Mikey is doing is trying to ruin it. I thought Mikey of all people would understand and be on my side, but now I've met this great guy and he and fucking Wentz are just fucking everything up."

His voice cracked a little so he paused, but he didn't open his eyes, and Brian remained quiet. "I just don't get it, because he knows what I'm like. Everybody knows what I am like, how I don't talk to people and never make new friends. I'm not the kind of person anyone would make an effort to get to know. But Frank... he wanted to know me."

"I think it's obvious," Brian whispered, and Gerard's eyes fluttered open to meet Brian's blue ones. "He's jealous."

"Oh please, if he wants Frank for himself I highly doubt that inducing allergic reactions is the way to go."

"Gee, he's not jealous for Frank, he's jealous _of_ Frank." Brian smiled, staring straight at Gerard who had to look down, his eyes landing on their hands where Brian's thumb was stroking the back of his hand.

"That's stupid. We're brothers, he's not—"

"Exactly! You're his older brother, and he's had your full attention from the moment he was born. Now you have a boyfriend who you're spending a lot of time with and talking about all the time and Mikey doesn't know what to do." Brian nudged their knees together as he spoke, and Gerard looked up. What Brian was saying made sense, but Gerard still couldn't understand why Mikey was acting the way he was.

"I wish he would just tell me, though, and not keep acting like a total moron. And he should stop hanging out with Pete Wentz."

"Never gonna happen," Brian said, laughing quietly, and Gerard let out a soft snort himself.

"A guy can dream, can't he?" Brian didn't reply, and they sank into a deep silence. Brian was giving him a strange look that made Gerard feel awkward, so he closed his eyes to get away. When it didn't help, he started talking again instead. "So, I told you what's on my mind. Are you gonna tell me what's on yours?" He opened his eyes just as Brian looked away.

"A lot of stuff," Brian replied with a small sigh. Then he looked back at Gerard and stopped moving his thumb over his hand. "You."

"Me," Gerard replied softly as an uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach. He didn't really like the sound of that, at least not combined with the way Brian was looking at him. His eyes were like the ocean, the color shifting between blue and green, and so huge Gerard thought he might drown in them if he just looked into them for too long.

"How did you know you're gay?" Brian asked suddenly, in a completely different tone of voice. He sounded curious more than anything. "When did you know? How are you sure?"

Gerard was kind of stunned by the questions, not knowing how to react. "What? You— Are you— Really?" Brian flushed a soft pink, but it only lasted a few seconds, and Gerard decided to just try and answer the questions for him.

He wasn't sure of what to say at all, though. "I don't know," was the first thing that came to him, but when Brian sighed, he elaborated, "I think I always knew, kind of. It's not like I was ever interested in girls, at least not beyond that way in which you had to think girls were pretty in 1st grade. Then I simply realized a few years later that the boys were pretty too. They were even prettier, and eventually I just knew that girls had never been of serious interest to me."

"And that's it?" Brian asked doubtfully. "You just knew? There wasn't one specific person who made you see it, or whatever?"

"Well, watching movies and reading comic books played a certain part, I guess. I always liked the male characters better, and once I was old enough to care about appearances, I always preferred the guys. Like, a half-naked guy was better to look at than a half-naked girl."

"Oh," Brian said quietly, looking down at their hands and sighing softly. "That's not— I don’t— for me—" He stopped, taking a deep breath and meeting Gerard's eyes again. His head jerked to the side as they heard Bob shift on the other couch, but neither of their friends woke up, and they both relaxed again. "For me, there is someone. A guy."

Brian looked at him, completely earnest, and he squeezed Gerard's hand. Gerard didn't know what to say. The uncomfortable feeling in his gut made itself known again, and Gerard shuddered because Brian was sitting so close, his eyes bright and beautiful, _like the ocean_ , Gerard thought to himself again. His mouth was right there, lips pink and soft looking as he spoke, the silvery ring shining at the center.

"That doesn't mean you're gay, though. You've had lots of girlfriends; this doesn't mean anything, right? You could just be bisexual, or bicurious, or something. Just because you like someone it doesn't mean that..."

Gerard's words trailed off as Brian scooted closer, leaned in just a little and placed his free hand on Gerard's cheek. They were still leaning against the back of the couch, but now Gerard could feel Brian's breath against his lips so he leaned in, closing the tiny gap and pressing his already parted lips against Brian's. Their eyes fell shut simultaneously, but their lips barely moved.

Brian felt warm against him, touching Gerard's hand and his face, and his mouth was damp. The metal of the piercing felt odd against Gerard's skin, cold and hot at the same time, and he slipped his tongue out to lick at it, resulting in Brian gasping and opening up, sucking Gerard's tongue into his mouth. For a brief moment, Gerard went for it, pushing up against him and letting Brian's hands get lost in his hair, but then it was as if his tongue in another guy's mouth set off all of these alarms that just screamed "FRANK!" at him.

Frank. Fuck, _fuck_ Frank. His fucking boyfriend. His boyfriend who he had just forgotten all about in favor of making out with his friend. Fuck.

He pulled away slowly, thinking frantically of ways not to hurt Brian's feelings, but when he met his eyes he realized there was no way to do that. "Brian, I can't. I have a boyfriend." He looked down at his hands, not wanting to see Brian's face. "If things were different, maybe— It's just... I really like Frank. I really care about him, and he cares about me."

"No, it's okay. It's my fault anyway. I shouldn't have—" He looked up at Brian again, nodding slowly. "I should just go. I never sleep well on couches anyway, so..." He stood up, and Gerard followed, careful not to step in the popcorn bowl. "Wait, you won't tell anyone, will you?" Brian asked on his way to the door, Gerard shuffling along a few paces behind him. His face was pale, a little scared.

"No, of course I won't," Gerard blurted out automatically, but after thinking about it for a second he corrected himself. "I mean, I have to tell Frank, but no one else." Brian nodded his understanding, and Gerard didn't bother asking whether he would tell anyone. It was obvious that Brian wanted it kept quiet.

"Well, goodnight." Gerard wanted to hug Brian as he walked out, but knew that he shouldn't.

"Goodnight."

He couldn't help feeling ashamed and guilty as he walked downstairs to his room, wishing for Frank to be there so that he could tell him and Frank could get mad and they could make up, and have it all over with. He didn't like the whole waiting until the next time he would even see Frank to tell him. Because he really did have to tell him. He probably couldn't hide a thing like that even if he tried.

At least thinking about Frank kept him from thinking about Brian, for the most part. He couldn't really believe that Brian of all people liked him, not only because Brian was straight, but because Brian was good looking and cool, and had lots of friends. Brian liking Gerard was just weird. Gerard who had never had anyone show any interest in him suddenly had two guys after him, and he was forced to choose.

He would always choose Frank, though. There was no doubt about it.

*

**Monday, February 14th 2011**

Gerard was feeling lonely on Monday. He hadn't talked to Mikey since Saturday morning, before Pete showed up and stayed over; meaning Gerard didn't speak to Mikey on Sunday either. Bob and Ray had left when Gerard got up on Sunday morning so he didn't talk to them, not that he had anything special to talk to them about, and it didn't feel right to call Brian. He had never been close to Brian, so calling him and unloading all of his problems into him would be weird, especially now, after the kissing.

What made it all worse was that Frank didn't show up on Sunday either. Gerard hadn't expected him to come over on Saturday, but he had been hoping he'd be there on Sunday, if only to say hello and let Gerard know how he was feeling. He had thought that maybe Frank would stop by before work, but he didn't, and no matter how late Gerard stayed up that night, Frank never knocked on his door.

School was boring as usual. He spent the day with Ray and Bob, not talking to Mikey even once. Saporta shoved him against a locker once, making his head hurt much like it had almost the entire previous week since the beating last Monday. He had some Tylenol in his bag, though, and managed to make it through the rest of the day.

After school, he studied. He didn't feel like it at all, but he was supposed to retake a test from the last semester, and Gerard really wasn't all that interested in the Civil War. He wondered if he could write "War is stupid." on every question and get away with it, but figured it wouldn't earn him any points so he would just fail. Again.

He got really, really bored of studying after a few hours, though, which meant his mind drifted in other directions. He thought about Frank, about what had happened on Friday, about what had happened with Brian on Saturday, and how on earth he was supposed to bring it up.

Then he thought about what had happened on Friday, and his doubts of whether Frank was telling the truth about the blueberry allergy. It was stupid, and it didn't matter whether Frank was allergic to the berries or not, but Mikey's words were not so easy to forget, no matter how hard Gerard tried.

The necklace was still on Gerard's desk. He had looked at it several times, opened the box, considered putting it on and then decided against it. The box was open now, though, the cross visible from where Gerard was sitting on his bed with his books and notes strewn all around him. He went and picked it up again, taking it out of the box and letting the chain slide over his fingers as he held the little cross in his hand. He wasn't going to wear it. He had decided the day his grandmother died that he was only going to wear it on that day, and he wasn't going to break that vow. Especially not because of Mikey and Pete Wentz.

He put it in the box again, closed it and placed it in his sock drawer. Just in case Mikey went looking for it, he thought. Mikey wouldn't look in the sock drawer.

Just then he heard two sharp knocks on the door, and he realized he was out of time. He hadn't really known what time Frank would come over if he even came, but now it was just after six, and Gerard could only assume it meant that Frank didn't have work that night.

It wasn't Frank, waiting outside when Gerard opened the door, though. It was Brian.

"Hi," Gerard said, his voice sounding tense and weird because that's how he was feeling. "What are you—"

"I just thought I'd check to see if you wanted to hang out or something." Brian hunched his shoulders and stared at Gerard's feet. His face looked a little pink. "Is this a bad time?"

"No!" Gerard blurted out, but then he thought about it and realized that he wasn't supposed to have friends over because he had to study. He was so used to Frank being his own exception that he forgot that Brian was not to be an exception; especially not now that Gerard was expecting Frank. "I mean yes, kind of. I'm meant to be studying, so."

"Oh, okay. I was just, you know, in the neighborhood," Brian lied, and it was obvious. "I was just thinking—" He stopped, and started again. "Have you told Frank yet?"

"What?" Gerard said, and then replayed Brian's words in his head. Then he said, "No, I haven't seen him yet. I think he might be coming over later, though. Why?" he asked, and Brian looked flustered. "Is that the only reason you came over? Because you thought we had talked and that he had broken up with me?"

"No! I just wanted to talk, I swear." Brian looked him in the eye for the first time since he came, and his blue ones were wide and honest.

"So you didn't kiss me to make him break up with me?" Gerard asked, still not sure he believed Brian, but then there was a rustling sound coming from the path behind Brian, and Gerard's eyes were met with Frank's.

"Who's breaking up with you?" Frank asked jokingly, apparently having caught the last part of Gerard's sentence.

"No one, I hope," Gerard replied with a grin as Frank walked past Brian up to Gerard and reached up for a kiss as Gerard leaned in to meet him halfway. Frank's lips were ice-cold, and Gerard shuddered, reaching down to clasp Frank's hand and link their fingers.

Then, Frank seemed to notice Brian for the first time, and looked up at Gerard expectantly. "Who's your friend?" He nodded in Brian's direction, and Gerard felt strangely cornered. Why did Brian have to come over? Also, he had to look down upon them because they were both really short, and for once in Gerard's life he got to know how it felt to be freakishly tall. It was not a pleasant experience.

"Frank, this is Brian. Brian..." he dragged the name out, not wanting to do the introduction in the first place because it felt so stupid. Brian already knew who Frank was. "...this is Frank," he finally finished, looking at the ground between them.

Brian and Frank shook hands really quickly, and then Brian backed away. "I need to go, so. It was nice to meet you," he nodded towards Frank. "I'll see you around, Gee."

"Yeah, see ya."

Gerard avoided Frank's eyes as they waited for the sound of Brian's footsteps to die out, and he kept avoiding them as Frank stepped close, not kissing him but walking him backwards into the little hallway, closing the door behind them.

"What the hell was that all about?" Frank had backed him up against the wall, but Gerard was still avoiding his heavy gaze. "Gee?" Frank's thumb and index finger were cold against Gerard's chin as he tilted Gerard's face to look at him. "What's wrong?"

"Brian," Gerard sighed. "Brian likes me."

"Oh." Frank's face fell a little. "That's—" he started to say, but then he changed direction. "Is that all?"

"No." Gerard let out another heavy sigh. "We kissed, this weekend." He pushed Frank away and moved from the wall, turning his back on him. He couldn't look at Frank right now. "He kissed me, and I kissed back. Or maybe it was the other way around, I don't know. I can't remember." That was a lie, he could remember. He just didn't want to tell Frank that he had, not initiated it, but taken the last step and pressed his lips to Brian's. He had done that, not Brian.

"Gerard," Frank said softly, placing his hands on Gerard's arms, rubbing them lightly.

"We were talking, okay? It was just the two of us and he was telling me about how he feels, and we were sitting really close, and it was just one kiss. It was just one kiss, okay? I'm sorry."

Frank turned him around and placed his fingers on Gerard's chin again, tilting his face down to look at him. "It's okay, Gee." His voice was soft, but the look in his eyes was even softer. "You won't do it again, right?" he asked, and Gerard shook his head frantically, almost shaking Frank's fingers off. "Then, I see no reason not to forgive you."

Gerard felt as if he was going to cry all of a sudden. He had not been far from it earlier when he was talking, but now, now that Frank had forgiven him and it was behind them, Gerard felt tears prickling at his eyelids.

"Gee, come on; let's go into your room." Frank gave him a little nudge, and he opened his eyes again and let Frank lead him inside. He brushed some stray papers aside to make room to sit, and pulled Frank down on the bed, suddenly realizing Frank had been kind of sick the last time he had seen him.

"Fuck, I forgot to ask. Are you okay? Was it allergies? What did they say at the hospital?" Frank looked confused for a moment, as if he didn't understand what Gerard was talking about, as if he couldn't remember what happened Friday night.

Then it seemed to come back to him as his face changed and he shook his head. "Yeah uh, it was allergies. It was nothing, though. It went away really quickly, and I've just been taking it easy over the weekend, as much as I could when I wasn't working."

Gerard figured there was no way for the people at the hospital to figure out what Frank's body had reacted against, so he didn't ask, and therefore didn't see any good reason to tell Frank about Mikey and Pete hiding garlic in his room. It probably only was the blueberries anyway, as Frank had said when it first happened. Frank wasn't lying to him, he knew that deep down, so Gerard just had to get all of Mikey's stupid words out of his head and move on.

"That's good," he whispered, looking over at Frank who smiled and leaned in, reaching out to cup Gerard's cheek and guide him close as their lips met. It started out soft and light, but soon Frank was laying Gerard down and settling down on top of him. The slow, closemouthed kiss had escalated to a fast, hot tangling of tongues and clashing of teeth. Gerard gasped as Frank slid down, kissing his neck and nipping at the sensitive skin, and tangled his fingers in Frank's long hair.

"Fuck, Frank. That's— Oh." Frank slid a hand down to palm Gerard's crotch and he couldn't contain the moan rising in his throat.

"Yeah, Gee. Fuck, I wanna taste you." Frank licked at his neck before suddenly pulling away to tug Gerard's t-shirt over his head and off. He leaned in and kissed Gerard again, sucking on his tongue and teasing a moan from his throat before sliding further down his body, licking and kissing and nipping the skin everywhere he went. Gerard didn't register Frank undoing his pants and pulling them down, he could only feel Frank's tongue teasing his hips.

"Frank!" Gerard all but shouted as he felt Frank's breath hitting his swollen, sensitive flesh. Frank didn't waste any time teasing; it was obvious that Gerard wasn't going to last long anyway.

The first touch of Frank's mouth to his cock made Gerard's mind go completely blank. It was only for a second or so, because then, as Frank took more of him in, he could feel it, all of it, and it was all he could do not to come right then. Frank's mouth was the hottest, _sexiest_ thing Gerard had ever felt in his life. It was wet, and hot, and so fucking tight Gerard couldn't quite understand it. How could anyone's mouth feel that good? It didn't make sense.

He was moaning and writhing on the bed, on top of all of his books and loose papers, and he didn't care. All he could think about was the feeling of Frank's mouth on his cock, tight and wet, and his hand, Gerard realized, working the base of his cock, where Frank didn't reach with his lips. His hand was still in Frank's hair and he tightened his grip as he felt Frank's tongue swirling around his tip. He tried to buck up, wanting to go deeper, but Frank held him down with his free hand, before lowering his head on his own. Then he swallowed, and it was all Gerard could take.

His mind went completely blank again, and he was shaking as Frank swallowed around him, again and again, savoring every last drop and not pulling off until Gerard had finished. He vaguely felt Frank move up to lie next to him, and then he heard the rasp of a zip and a soft moan from Frank. He wanted to help, to get Frank off, but he couldn't really move, he was too gone, so he just lay there and listened to the slick sound of Frank jerking his own cock, panting and moaning almost right into Gerard's ear.

He finally managed to open his eyes and turned his head to kiss Frank, joining their lips in a long, deep kiss that was only broken by Frank's moan as he came. Gerard curled his fingers in Frank's hair and held on, though, still kissing him as he went still. It was the taste of himself on Frank's tongue that made Gerard want to keep going; that made him want to keep exploring and taking in all about it. It was the taste of sex, and it was right there, in Frank's mouth, and Gerard couldn't get enough of it.

"You're amazing, you know that, right?" Gerard said when he finally let up, needing to breathe. "That was amazing. You have to do it again." Before Frank had had a chance to reply, Gerard had resumed the kiss and even rolled on top of him. That was when he realized that his jeans and boxers were halfway down his thighs, cock dangling awkwardly between his thighs, and he suddenly didn't feel very sexy anymore.

He felt his face heat up as he sat back and did his pants up, watching Frank do the same out of the corner of his eye. Frank looked up and met his gaze with a warm smile and scooted closer until he could wrap an arm around Gerard's waist and press a kiss to his shoulder, not breaking their eye contact.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "Inside and out."

Gerard smiled, he couldn't help it. "You too. You're beautiful, Frank." He had never really meant to say that before, had never thought he had the guts to do it, but now that he had said it he found that he meant those words more than he had ever meant anything in his life.

Frank smiled and kissed him again, a long, lingering kiss on the lips, before pulling away and gesturing to all the books they just had sex on. "What's all this?" He picked one of the open books up and eyed the page headline. "The Civil War? Are you kidding me?"

"No, I actually am retaking a test on the Civil War. Stop mocking me and help me study instead," Gerard said, holding back a laugh as he gave Frank's shoulder a light shove.

"Fine, fine. No need to get violent." Frank smirked and Gerard reached for a pillow to throw at him. "Violence is not going to teach you anything about American history."

"But studying is boring. I hate it," Gerard whined. Frank made it better, though, just like he had the entire previous week, by pulling him back to sit between his legs and lean against his chest. It was nice to sit like that, cuddling, and Gerard could steal a kiss as often as he liked.

Frank stayed late; questioning Gerard on what they thought was likely to come up on the test until Gerard didn't get any of the questions wrong. He didn't want Frank to leave, but trying to convince Frank to stay was fruitless as always.

"Will you come over tomorrow? I think I might need some help with a math homework assignment thing."

Frank sighed as he got up, but Gerard could see a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned down to peck Gerard's lips where he was still sitting on the bed. "Yes, I'll be here. I'll always be here."

*

**Friday, February 18th 2011**

The week had flown by, every day having passed by so quickly that Gerard could hardly even grasp where they had gone. It was already Friday, and also that day which he had dreaded for a while, the anniversary of his grandmother's death.

He put the cross on first thing in the morning and spent a good fifteen minutes admiring it in the mirror. He had seen his grandma wearing it so many times, remembered when he was just a kid and would reach out with a chubby hand to touch it and was met with smooth metal and warm, soft skin. He missed her so much, it was always hard to think about how she was gone, that she could never come back, that it wasn't like when she had moved to Vermont for two years when he was eight.

School was pretty okay. He was quiet and withdrawn most of the day, despite always being surrounded by his friends. He had forgiven Mikey two days earlier, and although he was still mad at Pete, he didn't object to him hanging around with the others. The day would have been considerably worse had it not been for his mother saying that it was okay to go out to Bachmeier's that night, and knowing that he would be going home with Frank afterwards made it even better.

He had decided to really try and convince Frank to stay the night for once. He never wanted to do it before a weekday, but tomorrow would be Saturday, and the excuse of Gerard's mother finding them would be useless. Not that it made much sense otherwise either as Gerard's mother hadn't come into his room to wake him up since he was in Middle School. It was all just really weird how Frank could never stay and that he never named a reason why. Gerard suspected that he might have a second job during the day that he didn't want to tell Gerard about, but he couldn't think of what kind of job that could be.

He wasn't thinking about that as he walked into Bachmeier's that night, though, surrounded by all his friends again, and eyes immediately seeking out Frank's. He could feel himself beaming, he couldn't stop it, and Frank was smiling back, making his own grin grow even wider.

They settled down at their table which had supposedly been kept empty by Frank, as all the other tables in the room were taken. Both Frank and the other bartender, Lindsey, were busy with customers too, but Gerard realized that for a Friday night the place wasn't as packed as usual. There were exceptions, of course, like when there was an event of some kind, but there wasn't anything going on this weekend, not that Gerard knew of. Still, there was a serious lack of people.

"I guess Mom's not the only one being paranoid about this place. There's no one else from school here," Mikey said, and Gerard realized that he too had been scanning the room.

"Yeah," Gerard muttered in reply as he shrugged out of his coat and collected everyone's cash to go and get their beer.

"Hey," Frank said, grinning as he placed six beer bottles on a tray, having already done a headcount when Gerard and his friends arrived. As he walked over, he was hit by a sudden urge to lean over the counter and kiss that smile on Frank's lips, but he managed to keep himself mostly under control, with the exception of a giggle slipping out and a beaming face.

"Hi," he said softly, meeting Frank's eyes as he reached out to hand him the money. He wasn't sure whether Frank would still give him his drink for free or not, so he handed over enough money to cover all of it, but as usual, Frank gave him too much back. "You don't have to keep doing that, you know?" Gerard said, smiling as their fingers brushed. Frank's fingers were cold, probably after handling the cold drinks.

"Maybe I want to?" Frank's eyes sparkled in the dim light of the room, and Gerard wanted to lean in and kiss him more than ever.

"Whatever," Gerard muttered, refraining from giggling again and trying to ease up on the beaming. "I'll talk to you later," he finally said as he picked the little tray up and went over to the guys.

It was a few minutes later, when everybody had their drinks and he was talking to Ray about this new band that apparently was awesome and he needed to check it out, that he felt someone staring at him. He remembered the feeling from the time Frank's friends had spent the entire night staring at him, but now he felt like it wasn't the same kind of staring. It only took him a moment to look up and notice who was doing the staring, and was not surprised, but a little sad to meet Brian's eyes.

They hadn't seen each other, or talked, since Monday, so it was bound to be awkward when they met again, but this staring thing Brian was doing wasn't awkward, it was just sad. He knew he was still beaming after seeing Frank, and he flashed Brian a bright grin, wanting to both cheer him up and show him how happy he was. If he could just get Brian to see and accept how happy Gerard was, how happy Frank made him, he hoped that Brian could move on and stop moping and staring at him. It was only a matter of time before one of the guys picked up on it, and since Brian didn't want the others to know about his feelings, Gerard wanted to help him keep things quiet.

"Gerard?" Ray's voice brought Gerard back out of his thoughts, and he realized he had zoned out in the middle of their conversation.

"Yeah? Sorry, what were you saying?" he asked, taking a swig of his beer, and Ray went straight back to talking about how amazing the lead guitarist of that band was. Gerard had already forgotten the band's name and what sort of music they played, but knowing Ray he expected to hear a lot more about them.

The night flew by, much like the week had and, as it neared eleven o'clock, which was when Frank got off work, he realized he had hardly thought about his grandma all night. It wasn't in a bad way, he thought, not like he purposely ignored her, but like he had just had a good time with his friends, and that was okay, especially as he had already spent the day mourning her and thinking about her.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" a familiar voice whispered unexpectedly in his ear, and Gerard jumped a little in his seat. He turned his head to find a smiling Frank there, and was rewarded with a quick peck on the lips.

"Yeah, I'll just put my coat on," he replied, stood up and _blushed_ when Frank grabbed his coat and helped him put it on. Gerard pointedly ignored all of the looks on his friends' faces as he zipped it up and grasped Frank's hand. "Bye guys," he murmured, waving a little with his free hand as Frank lead him outside where the cool air soothed his hot cheeks.

They started walking slowly, and once Gerard had relished enough in the cold air and the nice, familiar feeling of Frank's cool fingers laced in his, he couldn't help but glare a little at him.

"What?" Frank asked in a tone of feigned innocence, and Gerard stopped just as they rounded a corner. Frank stopped a few paces ahead, still holding on to Gerard's hand as he turned around slowly on the spot.

Now that they had stopped, and they were alone and Gerard had all of Frank's attention all to himself, he didn't really know what he wanted to say. It felt stupid to whine about the coat thing, even if he did feel embarrassed about it, so instead he said, "You haven't kissed me tonight."

Frank smiled and stepped closer, but not by much. "Oh? Really? But I think I did. I can definitely remember kissing you in there, in front of your friends who were making stupid faces behind your back."

Gerard rolled his eyes. "You call that a kiss?" He tugged on Frank's hand, pulling him close until their chests were pressed together and Frank's cold mouth landed on his jaw. He planted a kiss there, then one on his cheek, and one standing up on his toes to reach Gerard's nose, until Gerard laced his free hand in Frank's hair and just pulled him in.

Frank tasted of cigarettes and possibly something like cinnamon beyond that, but before Gerard could investigate further, Frank had pushed him away and was gripping his own throat.

"What the fuck?" Gerard said, feeling very confused, and then he noticed the pained expression on Frank's face. "What's wrong? Are you okay? What's wrong with your throat?" Frank had backed away, and as Gerard stepped closer he kept moving away. Finally, Gerard reached out and placed a hand on Frank's shoulder to make him stop, and figuring that Frank didn't want him any closer, he didn't step closer.

"I'm fine, I'm just— I couldn't, couldn't breathe. It's probably just allergies, though. It's nothing." Frank sounded less than reassuring, and Gerard had to try really hard not to freak out at the sound of the word 'allergies'.

"We need to go to the hospital," Gerard said quickly, and when Frank protested he continued, "If you can't breathe, you're obviously not fine, Frank."

"Gee, I said no. I don't want to go to the hospital. It's nothing. Let's just go to your place, okay?" Frank looked at him pleadingly, and Gerard just didn't know how to say no to him. He wanted to make sure Frank was okay, but if he really didn't want to go to the hospital there wasn't anything that Gerard could do. Frank was a grownup and Gerard couldn't force him to do anything.

"Fine," he sighed. "But if it happens again, we are going to the hospital."

"Yeah, okay," Frank agreed, smiling. Gerard expected him to maybe hug him or kiss him again, for reassurance or whatever, but Frank merely grasped Gerard's hand on his shoulder and brought it to his mouth. He kissed Gerard's fingertips, one by one, before linking their fingers and tugging a little on his hand as they started walking again.

They walked in an awkward silence, one that Gerard was desperate to break, but couldn't figure out how to go about it. The only thing he could think to say was that maybe they should go to the hospital after all, but he knew that Frank would object and he didn't want a fight, not even a small one. So he kept quiet, and so did Frank, whose fingers were starting to warm up in Gerard's grasp, so he squeezed them softly and threw a glance at Frank who was looking at him too, and squeezed his fingers back.

They still didn't talk, though, not even as they reached Gerard's house and he started digging for his keys in his pockets. Frank, who would usually be all up in Gerard's space, kissing his neck and touching him, stayed back, and Gerard couldn't figure out why. Not even after taking off their coats and shoes and going into Gerard's room would Frank come closer and kiss him, and Gerard knew that something had to be wrong. It wasn't that he expected them to have sex as soon as they got inside, but for Frank not to kiss or even touch him, that was really weird.

"What's wrong?" Gerard finally asked when Frank sat down at the end of the bed, clasped hands resting on his lap. It was a strange position to see him in, and Gerard wondered if he was really fighting back pain, or struggling to breathe or something. Maybe he was praying? Did that mean he was dying? "Fuck, I knew we should have gone to the hospital. Come on, Frank. I'll drive." He grabbed Frank's hands and gave them a tug, but Frank didn't move an inch.

"What? Gee, I told you, I'm fine." Gerard didn't believe him at first, but then Frank tugged him close by his hands before cupping the backs of his thighs as he scooted backwards on the bed, making Gerard straddle his lap. "See, I'm fine," Frank whispered, bringing their lips together. Gerard wrapped his arms loosely around Frank's neck, but then Frank lay down, and he had to support himself on his hands.

Frank broke the kiss, breathing hard, and Gerard figured that was just the kissing until Frank pushed on his shoulders and stared at Gerard's chest. "What's that?"

Gerard sat back up and clasped his hand over what turned out to be the cross. It must have slipped out from underneath his shirt when he leaned forward. "It's my grandmother's cross. It's been three years since she died, today," he explained, still holding it against his chest.

"Is it... gold?" Frank asked, and Gerard looked at him, confused.

"Yes," he replied, looking at Frank and expecting an explanation to the odd question. The only reason he could think of for anyone to ask that, was if they wanted to steal it, and Gerard didn't think Frank was a thief.

"I'm allergic to gold," Frank said easily, and Gerard just blinked at him. That was as far from his expectations that Frank could gotten. "Like, really allergic. If I'm anywhere near it my body starts to fuck up."

"I didn't think you could be allergic to gold," Gerard said dumbly. "Especially not if you're not even in contact with it, like touching it."

"If I touched it, I would get a really bad rash, almost like a burn," Frank countered, holding his hand out as if to prove it. Gerard wasn't going to test it, though. He wasn't going to hurt his boyfriend just because. "It's kind of like with peanut allergies, you know? Some people are so sensitive they can't be in the same room without having an allergy attack."

"And you're that allergic to _gold_?" Gerard still wasn't quite sure he could believe that. It just didn't make sense, especially as it was a cross that Frank was reacting to. He tried really hard to shut Mikey's voice out of his head, telling him again and again that Frank was a vampire, and with Frank's help it actually worked.

"Yes, I'm allergic to gold. It's the most inconvenient allergy ever when you're in love with a girl and trying to propose and stupidly bought a golden ring," Frank said, smiling, and Gerard couldn't help but laugh, believing that Frank had actually gone through that.

Then Frank looked into his eyes, and Gerard couldn't believe that he had ever doubted Frank's word when it was obvious that he had a problem with the shiny metal.

"Let's put that thing away, okay?" Frank said, and Gerard nodded, quickly reaching behind himself to unclasp it. He got up and put it back in the box in the sock drawer, Frank's hand appearing on his as he slid it shut.

Gerard turned around to face Frank and was immediately met with a kiss, Frank's mouth wet and hot on his as he held Gerard's waist in a tight grip. Frank kissed his neck next, which Gerard loved when he did, so he groaned and pressed his hips against Frank's, fingers tangling in his soft hair.

"Hey, I have an idea," Frank murmured against his skin, and Gerard muttered something incoherent in response, and just went with it as Frank started pushing him backwards, directing him towards the bathroom. "It involves you," Frank said, closing the door behind them, "naked, in the shower," he finished as he left Gerard leaning against the sink and reached out to turn the water on.

"Pfft, it better involve you naked in there too," Gerard said, lifting his shirt over his head. When he could see again, he looked straight at Frank who was devouring him with his gaze. "What are you waiting for?" Gerard said, and with that, they were both racing to get their clothes off first, a contest which Gerard won as he had a head start. This resulted in Frank shrieking in protest as Gerard pushed him, still wearing briefs and socks, into the shower.

The items were lost and thrown out of the shower within seconds, though, and Gerard had Frank pressed up against the cold tiles, tongues meeting in an even rhythm and hands wandering over wet skin. Gerard could feel Frank groan into his mouth and pressed his hips harder against Frank's. He wanted to be closer, to get closer to Frank than he already was, their bodies pressed together from head to toe, and he could tell by the way Frank's fingernails were digging into his shoulders that he wanted the same thing.

"Fuck, Gee. Fucking Christ," Frank panted as Gerard ducked his head to mouth at Frank's jaw and neck, something which he didn't do all that often as it was more Frank's thing. He really loved it, though, when Frank would lick, suck and nip at the sensitive skin, and he wanted to make Frank feel that good. He sucked Frank's earlobe into his mouth and Frank moaned loudly and slipped his hands down to Gerard's ass, pulling him in hard. He could feel Frank's cock, so fucking hot where it slid against his thigh, hips and cock, hard and wet.

Gerard panted as he pulled back from Frank's neck, pressing his forehead against Frank's, looking into his eyes. The water was drizzling down onto his back as Frank leaned up for a quick kiss which Gerard tried to get more out of, but then he was pressing his face against Gerard's neck and shoulder, breathing heavily against his skin.

"Gee, Gee, I— Fuck, I want you, Gee." His hands were everywhere now, sliding up and down Gerard's chest, teasing his nipples, and fingers digging into his ribs. Gerard had never seen Frank like this before, never felt him like this, and it was turning him on like nothing else, so fucking good. "Gee, fuck, I want your mouth." Frank whined against Gerard's collarbone. "Please, I just, I need you to do something."

Gerard's knees almost gave out; he was so lost in Frank's words. Frank was so helpless, so needy, and Gerard wanted to do everything he asked. It wasn't like he hadn't been thinking about it anyway, and he knew he'd end up with his mouth on Frank's dick sooner or later anyway, especially now that Frank had blown Gerard _twice_.

"Yeah, fuck yeah," he panted heavily as he slid a hand up to Frank's hair and yanked his head back far enough to kiss him. When he pulled away, he slid to his knees on the wet, tiled floor with a little less finesse and a little more pain than he would have liked, but the way Frank's hands framed his jaw and face, tilting his head up to meet his hungry gaze definitely made up for it. Then, Gerard just went for it.

He didn't think too much about what he was doing, he just did it. He relaxed his jaw as much as he could and covered his teeth with his lips, and kind of sucked on the head, which pulled a low moan from Frank. He had one hand wrapped around the base and started to slowly jerk him off as he took more of him in. It was a strange feeling, his mouth being so full and knowing that it was a cock, that it was Frank's cock, made him a little dizzy. He swirled his tongue around the head and hollowed his cheeks out a little more as he tried to take more in, bobbing his head a little.

He wasn't sure at all how he was doing, but then Frank slid his hands into Gerard's hair and guided him gently a little further down, and he had to groan at the sensation, which made Frank moan in return. He kept going like that, feeling like he was mostly using his hand, but whatever, it had to be working because Frank was moaning and digging his fingers into his scalp.

"Gee, fuck, I'm—" was all the warning Gerard got before he felt Frank coming down his throat. He tried to swallow the bitter fluid, but he ended up choking and spluttering anyway, which made Frank laugh in between moans and gasps. Gerard just blinked at him, still sitting under the spray of water with his hair all over his face and a raging hard on.

"I'm sorry," Frank said softly, reaching out a hand and wiping the come off of Gerard's mouth with his thumb as he sank down to his knees as well. "That was perfect," he added, and Gerard reached out a hand to tangle in Frank's damp hair and pulled him in for a messy kiss. It was all tongues and teeth and harsh breathing, and once Frank got his hand on Gerard's dick, he was moaning and whimpering against Frank's lips until he came.

It was easily the best sex they had ever had.

"That was amazing," Gerard muttered, a little dazedly, as Frank smiled and kissed him softly. Frank sat back against the wall, getting his legs out from underneath him, and pulling Gerard down to half-lie on his side between Frank's legs, head resting on his shoulder. His knees had started to hurt a little from sitting on the hard tiled floor, and Frank was warm and soft so it was nice, especially as Frank threaded his fingers through Gerard's wet hair.

Frank still hadn't said anything, hadn't responded to Gerard's little exclamation, and Gerard was starting to think that maybe Frank hadn't liked it? Maybe it hadn't been good for him at all? Maybe Gerard had been a cock-sucking catastrophe?

He swallowed hard, and took a deep breath, not wanting to get too worked up over it until he knew for sure. "Frank? Are you— Was it— Was that okay?" he stuttered, face flushing hot against Frank's skin as the water rained down onto them.

"Huh?" Frank said and stopped moving his hand in Gerard's hair, seemingly startled by the question, or maybe it was Gerard speaking at all. He resumed the hair stroking after a moment, though, but shifted a little, using his other hand to try and pull Gerard closer. Gerard did what he could to help, folding his legs up a little more, wrapping an arm around one knee, and Frank's hand met his.

"Frank?" he asked again, because Frank still hadn't spoken.

"You heard me before, didn't you?" Frank asked, burying his nose in Gerard's hair. Gerard shook his head; he couldn't remember Frank saying anything. He had been too wrapped up in what they had been doing. "You were perfect." Gerard could feel the smile Frank was hiding in his hair. He turned his head up to look at Frank, to meet his soft gaze, and he felt his heart flutter, his insides going all bubbly and hot when Frank whispered "So perfect," and kissed him.

Gerard's skin tingled, and he couldn't stop smiling, and he couldn't stop kissing Frank now that he had started again. His right hand was on the side of Frank's neck, covering the 'Jinx Removed' tattoo, and his other hand was splayed on Frank's thigh, thumb caressing the pale, bare skin there. Their lips parted for a second and Gerard opened his eyes, and that's when a sudden realization dawned on him.

_I love you._ The words flashed across his mind just as Frank reclaimed his mouth in a slow kiss, and Gerard's eyes fluttered shut again. _I love you,_ he thought again, and he was aware of it now, the strong emotion that was making his heart beat faster if he so much as thought about Frank. Now, now it was making Gerard smile, and it was all he could do so he broke the kiss and leaned his head on Frank's shoulder, grinning lips pressed to his neck.

Still smiling, he pressed a kiss to the hickey he had given Frank earlier, and then one to the scorpion tattoo that he really liked. Then he leaned up and whispered in Frank's ear, "I want you to stay tonight." Frank didn't say anything, but turned his head and caught Gerard's lips in a soft kiss, and that was enough for him.

It was rather uncomfortable to sit on the floor like that, even if Frank's chest was warm and soft, so Gerard got up and pulled Frank with him into the still hot spray of water. They washed off quickly, or at least as quickly as they could while still kissing and touching the entire time, and got out just as the water started going really cold. Luck turned out to be on their side as Gerard found two clean towels on the shelf that had been empty the last time he checked, and he sent a silent thank you to his mom for having done laundry today.

They crawled into bed after drying off, still naked and hair dripping wet as they curled up together on the clean sheets Gerard had decided to change that day since he was trying to get Frank to stay and all.

Gerard was the little spoon again, and Frank was kissing his neck, caressing his chest, and Gerard was dozing off much too soon for his liking. He was thinking about love, and it was all cloudy and confusing because he was so tired, but he thought about loving Frank, and wondered how someone like Frank could have even the slightest feelings for someone like him. Frank was beautiful, and perfect, and Gerard was just a kid.

He sighed softly to himself and clung to Frank's arm, linking their fingers, and drifted off.

*

**Saturday, February 19th 2011**

When Gerard woke up in the morning, Frank wasn't there. It wasn't something he noticed at first, as he wasn't used to waking up with somebody there, and he was just about to drift off again when he remembered the previous night, his plea for Frank to stay and them crawling into bed together. That's when he realized Frank wasn't touching him, so he rolled over, and Frank wasn't in the bed at all. However, the bathroom door was closed, and with a sigh of relief, Gerard assumed that that's where Frank had gone.

Ten minutes later, Frank still hadn't come out of the bathroom, though, so Gerard got up and found the door unlocked, and the room itself was dark. He flicked the lights on and blinked, covering his eyes with a hand until he got used to it, and found that Frank was in fact not there. The only clothes on the floor were Gerard's.

He didn't know what to think at first, he couldn't believe that Frank had actually snuck out while Gerard was sleeping. He wondered, more than ever, what it was that Frank always did in the mornings that meant he couldn't spend a full night with Gerard. He decided to ask Frank that night, and that he wouldn't back down, no matter what. Frank was being unreasonable, especially if he couldn't even tell Gerard _why_ he couldn't stay.

They would have a lot of time to talk, too, as Frank didn't have work that night and would be over around six o'clock. Gerard had suggested that he could come over earlier, or even stay the whole day, but Frank had said that he would be busy.

*

Later that afternoon Gerard was heading upstairs to get a snack. He hadn't eaten much for lunch because his mom had made some weird casserole thing with strange looking vegetables in it, so he was hungry, and he craved chocolate.

It turned out Mikey was there, though, with Pete, which shouldn't have been a surprise as the two of them had claimed the Ways' kitchen for their headquarters and always hung out there, drinking coffee and making plans of how to ruin Gerard's life. He wasn't really mad at them anymore, though he didn't like Pete any more than he had before the garlic incident, so he wasn't happy he was there anyway. Mikey had spent the night at Pete's place, and hadn't been home for lunch, but now they had evidently come back there to be in the way.

"Hey," Mikey said, stopping his and Pete's conversation. "You okay?" Gerard thought it was an odd question at first, because Mikey didn't know about Frank being weird and Gerard being upset about it, but then he remembered what day yesterday had been, and it made a lot more sense.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Gerard said, answering Mikey's question. He didn't really want to talk about Frank in front of Pete. It appeared he didn't have that kind of choice in the matter, though, as Pete said, "I bet Frank made him feel all better last night. Made you forget all about it, didn't he?"

Pete smirked, and Gerard sighed. "Shut the fuck up." He rolled his eyes and stepped over to the fridge, remembering exactly why he had gone up there in the first place, and stole a bar of chocolate that he was pretty sure his mother intended to use for baking.

He turned around again, and found Mikey giving him a strange look. "What?"

"What's wrong?" Mikey gave him a stern look, so Gerard looked away and ended up looking at Pete, whose eyes were wandering between Gerard and Mikey. "Don't even try, Gee. I can tell something's up."

"Mikey," Gerard tried, but Mikey's stern eyes, amplified by his fucking glasses, kept staring at him in a way that was a little scary. He sighed, and finally admitted, "Frank snuck out. In the middle of the night." He stared at the floor and took a bite of his chocolate, feeling embarrassed to be telling his little brother about his boyfriend problems. "Like, he pretended to stay, but snuck out without even waking me to say he was leaving. He just took off."

The voice that responded was not the one Gerard wanted to hear. "Has he ever told you why he can't stay?" Gerard shook his head no, and Pete went on, "That's pretty weird, right?" Pete stopped for a moment, and just as Mikey was about to open his mouth to say something useful, Pete said, "Maybe he's got someone else? Like, he's cheating on you, or he's cheating on them with you, or he's cheating on both of you."

Gerard opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"Let's not jump to conclusions, okay?" Mikey said easily, and Gerard instantly felt better. Mikey sometimes had that effect on him, at least when he was being sensible and saying what Gerard wanted to hear. "Frank's probably got a perfectly good reason why he can't stay, he might just not know how to tell you, or he's not sure how you'd react to it."

"Yeah, he's not sure how you'd react to finding out that he has a wife and two kids and is totally just using you for sex." Pete smirked, and then winced as Mikey seemed to have kicked his shin under the table.

"Shut the fuck up, Pete," Mikey said, and Gerard really loved his brother at that moment. "Frank is most likely not married, or cheating on anyone," he continued and took a sip of his coffee which was apparently cold because he grimaced and put the mug back down. "Anyway, the only way to find out is to ask him, which I think we should do."

"Mikey, I have asked him. A hundred times," Gerard whined.

"I haven't." Mikey said it as if it was the simplest thing ever, but Gerard was not convinced. Mikey had never even met Frank properly, and if it was up to Gerard, would never meet Frank properly. Therefore, Mikey's idea sucked.

"I've invited all the guys over tonight, and I was thinking you and Frank could join, and we could all meet him and get to know him and ask him why he's so annoyingly mysterious and make him stop getting your knickers all twisted up."

"Why on earth would he talk to you?" Gerard asked, because hello, Mikey's the one who was annoying and his little brother. "And my knickers are not twisted up. I don't wear knickers."

"That's not the point. Just hang out with us tonight and let us meet him and stuff."

"Fine." Gerard sighed and turned to leave.

"Hey, at least we know now that he's definitely not a vampire," Pete said, and Gerard stopped at the door. "Mikey told me about your Grandma's cross. You wore it last night, right?"

Gerard felt suddenly cold all over, the hair at the back of his neck standing up and he gripped his half-melted bar of chocolate too tight. He wished they hadn't brought it up, that they had both kept Mikey's promise to never bring the vampire thing up again, because now he felt like he had to tell them about Frank being allergic to gold, and he knew what they would think. He wished he could just tell Mikey, because maybe without Pete's influence he would immediately jump to the conclusion that Frank had reacted to the cross, not the gold, but Pete was there, Pete had asked the question, and Pete would have to hear the answer.

"Frank's allergic," he said quietly, slowly turning around. "Frank's allergic, to gold. I had to take it off." He could see their minds working so hard, Mikey looked worried and concerned and Pete was just about to open his big stupid mouth when Gerard interrupted him. "Look, I know what you're thinking, but I'm saying no. You're not bringing that bullshit up again."

"Gee," Mikey said, voice pleading, but Gerard didn't know what for.

"No."

*

Gerard felt nervous and anxious as he waited for Frank to knock on his door that night. He wasn't sure how Frank would react to meeting Gerard's brother and friends, and he wasn't sure that he could trust Mikey and Pete not to accuse Frank of being a vampire to his face. He also wasn't sure he wanted them to try and figure out why Frank never stayed the night, not with Pete's adultery theories, or with how they now had reinforced beliefs that Frank was a vampire.

Gerard really regretted telling them about Frank's allergy.

When Frank showed up, he was acting as if he had done nothing wrong, but Gerard tried really hard to stand his ground and not let Frank talk his way out of giving Gerard a really good explanation.

"Where did you go?" he asked the moment he opened the door. "Why did you leave without even saying anything?" Frank sighed and shrugged, stepping inside when Gerard let him.

"I didn't want to wake you." Frank offered a smile, and his hand, but Gerard just frowned at him.

"You could have told me you wouldn't be staying before we went to bed."

"Would you have listened?" Frank asked, and Gerard snapped, "I would have if you had given me a fucking reason to." Right then, he couldn't believe that this was the man he loved. The previous night he had felt so strongly for him and now Frank was just being nonchalant and brushing his worries off like it was nothing.

"Have you ever considered that maybe there's a reason I can't tell you why I have to go?" Frank's voice softened. "Gee, I want to tell you, but I'm not ready, and I don't think you are either." He stepped closer, and Gerard let him take his hand, and met Frank's eyes.

"I just want you to spend the night here for once," Gerard said quietly, and Frank replied, even quieter, "I know." Frank was so close he was nudging Gerard's throat with his nose, pressing a soft kiss to the tender skin before reaching up to cup his cheeks and tilt Gerard's face down. When they kissed, it was both an apology and a promise, and Gerard had to believe that Frank was telling the truth. He just had to.

"Come on," he said when they broke off, taking Frank's hand in his and moving towards the stairs.

"Where are you going? Why aren't we going into your room? Is your family out?" Frank asked with a bewildered expression on his face.

"No, they aren't. I kind of promised Mikey that we'd hang out with him and the others tonight. They want to meet you, and I guess I was a bit mad this afternoon when I said yes, and I would maybe have warned you if I could, but I can't call someone who doesn't have a phone, and you snuck out in the middle of the night." Frank just stared at him, the previously bewildered look now appearing mildly terrified. "Come on, it'll be fine. It's just movies and pizza."

"It's punishment, isn't it?" Frank said, finally taking a hesitant step towards the stairs.

"No, I swear I've told them all to be on their best behavior." Gerard tried to sound reassuring and, when it didn't seem like that was helping, he wrapped his arm loosely around Frank's neck and leaned down to kiss him. Then he leaned his forehead against Frank's and said, "My brother might be a pain in the ass most of the time, but I love him and I want you to meet him. And I guess you'll just have to meet the rest of my friends at the same time."

"Will it make you happy?" Frank nudged Gerard's nose with his own.

"Yes," he said, without a moment of hesitation, but then, thinking about Frank keeping secrets from him, he added, "for now."

With that, he pulled away and tugged on Frank's hand as they finally walked upstairs. Introductions were a bit awkward as Gerard had talked a lot about Frank to his friends, so they obviously knew who he was and his name, whereas Gerard hardly ever spoke about anyone except for Mikey to Frank. He might have mentioned how annoying Pete was, but other than that Gerard didn't talk about his friends. It was kind of a relief that Frank had already met Brian, and been introduced, but it also made Gerard not realize that Brian wasn't there until the introductions were over and Frank had been pulled into a discussion of music and guitars with Ray and Bob.

"Where's Brian?" He followed Mikey, who was going to the kitchen to get the phone so that they could call for pizza.

"Oh, I texted him earlier to tell him that you and Frank were joining us, and he replied that his mom had suddenly reminded him that it was his grandma's birthday or whatever, and he couldn't get away."

"Oh, okay. That's all he said?"

"Yeah, why?" Mikey asked, giving him a suspicious look.

"Nothing, I just thought it was weird, that's all," Gerard replied, maybe a little too fast, avoiding Mikey's stare and scratching his head. "By the way, I don't want you to try and grill Frank on why he never stays 'til morning. Don't ask me why, but I wanna give him some more time to tell me himself."

"Fine," Mikey said, rolling his eyes. "But I am telling him that if he breaks your heart, I'll drive a stake through his." Mikey smirked, but broke into a grin after a second, and Gerard couldn't help but laugh.

"Sure, you go ahead and tell him that."

The rest of the evening passed quite nicely, with the exception of the slight awkwardness that occurred when Mikey asked Frank what he wanted on his pizza and he said he had already eaten. It wasn't really something to get weird over, but everyone, except for Gerard, looked at him weird until he spit out, "I didn't know there would be pizza, okay? I thought I was gonna make out with Gee all night." He was a bit red in the face and looked really flustered and embarrassed, and it was seriously cute, and funny. Gerard bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to grin.

The incident was forgotten within minutes, and then everything went on quite smoothly again, until Pete dug out a pocket mirror, insisting that he needed to check his makeup, which Gerard hadn't even noticed he was wearing. He then had to move and shift around a lot, trying all sorts of different angles because apparently the light was crappy, and then Frank got up and disappeared into the bathroom for ten minutes. When he returned, the pocket mirror was put away again, but Pete and Mikey were exchanging knowing looks, and Gerard glared at them.

After that they watched a movie, which Gerard had already seen a hundred times, and he was pretty sure Frank had seen it as well, so he made sure to keep his tongue in Frank's mouth for at least ninety percent of the movie. He didn't think Ray and Bob noticed much, but he could feel Mikey, and sometimes Pete, glaring at them. He didn't mind, he was actually quite happy about it, because they deserved to watch Gerard and Frank make out after being such annoying little assholes who just didn't know when to let something go.

"I should probably get going," Frank said after the movie ended, and Gerard couldn't help but sigh as he murmured, "Okay, I'll walk you out."

Frank said goodbye to the other guys, who all responded with lazy nods and sleepy "Nice to meet you too"s, as Gerard clung to his hand and followed him outside, carefully closing the door behind him. It was freezing out there, and completely dark except for the yellow glow coming from the streetlight just across the street.

"I really wish you would stay, you know?" Gerard said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the door. Frank was right there, though, unfolding his arms and pressing their bodies together, so that Gerard had no choice but to wrap his arms around Frank's shoulders, holding him close. Frank leaned against him; head on his shoulders and arms around his waist, and Gerard really hated being the tall one. He wanted to do that, to just sink into Frank and be held. He felt as if that would come natural to him, at least more than this did.

"I'll tell you soon, I promise," Frank whispered, kissing his neck.

"Then you'll stay over at night?" Gerard replied hopefully, but Frank just pulled back, looked him in the eye and said, still whispering, "We'll see, we'll see." Then he slid a hand up to curl in Gerard's hair, tugging him down slightly until their lips met, and Gerard forgot all about arguing for the moment. They kissed like that for what seemed like ages, Gerard just holding Frank close, and Frank caressing his face, neck and hair. Their lips and tongues met and parted in a slow, easy rhythm, and Gerard, no matter what he had felt during that day, knew that he had been right the previous night.

He loved Frank. He loved him so much it was hard to understand that he had ever doubted his feelings. He didn't say it, though. He couldn't. He wanted to wait until Frank said it; he didn't want to say it first. Or, if Frank took too long to say it, Gerard wanted to at least wait until Frank had told him whatever it was that he was keeping from Gerard.

He loved him, though; he loved him so much he couldn't imagine going back to a life where he didn't have Frank. It almost hurt to think about it, imagining a life where Frank didn't help him with homework, or snuggled up to him until he almost fell asleep. Frank seemed to make everything bad in his life worth it, like the bullying, and the studying, and the late nights when Frank was there, kissing him until he couldn't breathe.

He pulled away with a gasp, breathing hard and grinning, and Frank smiled up at him, caressing his cheek. "You okay?" Frank asked softly, brushed hair out of Gerard's face.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just..." Gerard connected their lips again, and Frank surged up against him. He pressed so close it seemed like they were going to get stuck together, as if they were melting into one person.

Soon after that Gerard realized he was freezing, because Frank was freezing cold to touch, and his hand on Gerard's face made him shiver. "It's fucking cold, you know?" he pulled off and whispered to Frank, who smiled sheepishly and muttered, "Sorry," which made Gerard giggle.

Gerard stuck his hands into his pockets, which made it a little better, but Frank was getting ready to leave. "I should go. It's really late, you know?" he added, as if Gerard didn't know it was almost three in the morning. "You should go inside and get warm, and get some sleep."

"Yeah," Gerard said with a shuddery breath, ducking his head to press a brief kiss to Frank's lips. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, I'll try and get off early, like nine." Gerard pressed another kiss to Frank's lips, but lingered this time until Frank broke off. "Goodnight, Gee."

"Goodnight, Frank," he replied, and Frank stepped back, turning to leave as Gerard opened the door and went back inside.

He shivered and rubbed his hands together as he walked back into the living room, where the conversation died and everyone turned to look at him as if someone had died, the moment he walked in. Not just Mikey and Pete, who he had kind of expected to want to talk to him, but Bob and Ray too, and Gerard knew he would not like what was coming next.

"Gerard," Ray said, voice soft and his big, sweet eyes full of concern and worry.

Gerard spoke, not realizing it until he heard his own voice. "No."

"Gee," Mikey tried, but Gerard shot him down with a harsh look, and noticed at the same time how Mikey was clutching Pete's wrist so tight his knuckles whitened.

They were all quiet for a long moment and, just as Gerard turned to leave the room, the person they all least expected to talk said, "Gerard, we really don't think you should keep seeing Frank." They all turned to stare at Pete who had this deviant spark in his eyes, and who had linked fingers with Mikey. "He is not the man he is making himself out to be."

"Shut up," Gerard spit out, and everyone turned to look at him. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. You're just a kid. You're not half the man he is."

"He's not a man at all!" Pete all but yelled, and everyone turned back to him, like this was some weird kind of tennis game. It wasn't a game, though. They were all completely serious, and Gerard was not going to back down.

"Yes he is!" Gerard yelled back, and Mikey whimpered. Gerard looked at him, and noticed that his little brother had tears in his eyes, which was the strangest thing ever. Mikey hadn't cried in front of him since they were kids.

"Then how do you explain that I couldn't see him in the fucking mirror? How do you explain that he had some kind of weird, physical reaction when there was garlic in the room? How do you explain that he couldn't bear being near you when you were wearing that cross around your neck? How do you explain that he sometimes is cold as fucking ice? How do you explain that you've never seen him in sunlight, or during the day?" Pete was spitting out every word, and Mikey was white as a sheet, just staring at Gerard with big, sad eyes. Bob and Ray were still just spectators of their fucked up game of tennis. "If you say allergies, you are so fucking far beyond more stupid than I thought."

Gerard took a deep breath, trying to relax where his entire body had tensed up. He was shivering, but not because he was cold. "Just tell me one thing," he said, staring at Mikey. "If you're so fucking sure that my boyfriend is the fucking Un-Dead, then please, explain to me how it works out that he has a heartbeat. I have felt his heart beating in his chest, I know that he is alive, and nothing that any of you have to say will make me stop believing that."

He waited for at least a minute, never breaking eye contact with Mikey. No one answered him. Not even Pete with his big, stupid mouth. Gerard turned around and walked out of the room and down to the basement.

He had just reached the bottom step when he felt sick to the stomach, and just barely made it to the toilet before he threw up. He collapsed on the bathroom floor, not wanting to move just yet in case he needed to throw up again, and felt utterly disgusted. Not with himself, or with Frank, but with Mikey, and the other three guys who were supposed to be his friends. Gerard knew that he had hung out with them a lot less since he started seeing Frank, and he understood that they were all upset about that, but this just wasn't okay. They were being childish and stupid, and Gerard didn't want things to be like this.

He got up after ten or fifteen minutes and rinsed his mouth and brushed his teeth thoroughly, before getting undressed and climbing into bed. He missed Frank, and wished more than ever that he could be there to hold him, and to prove in the morning that he wouldn't burn in the sunlight. He wanted to prove it to Mikey, and he would do it. He would make Pete eat up his every last word.

With that idea fresh in his mind, Gerard finally went to sleep.

*

**Sunday, February 20th 2011**

When Gerard woke up that morning and got upstairs to get coffee, he found a bunch of police cars parked outside. His mother walked into the kitchen right then, having arrived home from the friends' house her and Gerard's dad had spent the night at, and said, "You and your brother are entirely forbidden to go outside at night now."

"Okay," he muttered. It wasn't that big of a difference, and Frank would only come over there anyway. He wasn't missing out on anything. "Who was it? The victim?" He figured it could be old Mrs. Connors who lived just across the street, since that's where the police cars were parked, but he had a hard time picturing anyone wanting to kill such a sweet little lady.

"Some young girl. She's apparently not from around here. Some young man found her early this morning when he was walking his dog. The body had just been left out on the sidewalk. They hadn't even tried to hide it." Gerard tried really hard not to laugh at his mother. She was usually really composed when she talked about things like this, always acted like she wasn't supposed to talk about it in front of her teenage sons, but she was too excited to think about that now.

"And you boys were home alone last night!" she exclaimed suddenly, now looking more scared than anything. "What if they had come here? What if they had gotten inside and killed all of you, like they did a few weeks back to those poor kids who were having a party?" In two seconds flat, she was right next to Gerard, hugging him tight, like he hadn't been hugged since he was ten. "My poor babies, you could have been murdered."

"Mom, as you might have noticed, we _weren't_ murdered. You can let go of me." She didn't let go of him, but clung tighter and held on until Gerard's dad walked in and patted her shoulder.

"Donna, I think you're suffocating him." She finally let go, face a little flushed and possibly with tears in her eyes, so Gerard got his coffee and ran back downstairs to his room as fast as he could.

*

Gerard stayed in his room for most of the day. He didn't talk to Mikey or any of the other guys, and the only time he saw Mikey, and Pete who was apparently staying another night, was at the dinner table. Mrs. Way was talking about the murder again, repeating everything from that morning, and also everything she and Rosie had discussed during the day. Normally, Mikey and Pete would be exchanging excited glances as they listened to the new information, but they, just like Gerard, were just staring down at their plates, poking at the food with their forks.

"And they still have no leads!" Mrs. Way said, although not even her husband was really paying any attention anymore. "There is absolutely nothing to go on, and they have an FBI team, like from that TV show, where they study behavior, but they have absolutely nothing."

When Gerard was finally excused, he left for the basement without as much as a glance towards Mikey or Pete. He just wanted to get away from them and be alone. He wanted to think, or maybe he wanted not to think, because whenever he tried to think he would think about the previous night and everything that had been said.

He got out his sketchpad and lay on his bed, and started sketching instead. He drew what first came to his mind, which turned out to be Frank, and then, just to spite whatever Pete had said last night, about never seeing Frank in daylight, he drew a big, bright sun that made Frank on the paper glow. His eyes were like big, bright moons, reflecting the yellow light, shining and almost lifting off the paper, and it looked too normal, too real to not be true. Of course Frank could go out in the sunlight. It would be crazy if he couldn't. Or maybe he was actually allergic to sunlight too? Gerard knew for a fact that you could be, he had seen it on TV.

He was brought out of his deep thoughts by a sharp knock on the door, and a quick glance at the DVD confirmed that it was in fact a few minutes past nine.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," Gerard said, heaving the biggest sigh in history, as he opened the door and saw Frank. He hauled him inside and hugged him tight, burrowing his face in Frank's neck. He smelled like cigarettes, and Gerard relished in it, breathing him in as he clutched the back of Frank's jacket in his hands.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Frank asked, patting his shoulders and hair. "Did anything happen? I heard there was another murder, did you know them? The victim?"

Gerard pulled back and met Frank's beautiful eyes, and shook his head. "It's not the murder." Frank nodded, but eyed him expectantly, fingers threading through Gerard's hair which was getting greasy and dirty as he hadn't washed it in a while. "I don't wanna talk about it," he finally said, leaning in to kiss Frank's lips. "I just want you," he breathed against them and kissed Frank again, getting a soft hum in reply.

Gerard stumbled backwards into his room, pulling Frank with him and down on top of him on the bed. He shoved the leather jacket off Frank's shoulders, and immediately went for the hem of his shirt as well, but Frank stopped him, laughing softly. "Take it easy, Gee. Why are you in such a hurry?"

Gerard sighed, placing his hand on Frank's chest, right above his heart, and felt the steady thump. He moved his hand down to Frank's hip, and smiled. "Nothing," he said. "I just want you naked." He smirked, and Frank grinned before kissing him hotly and pinning him down.

"Let's see who gets who naked first?"

Gerard laughed, but held up his arms to help out when Frank tried to get his t-shirt off. He didn't really care about the challenge; he just wanted to get naked. "You're not even trying!" Frank said, giggling, but Gerard just lay back down, pulling Frank with him and into a heated kiss. Frank sucked on his bottom lip, and Gerard moaned, fisting his hands in Frank's shirt, and then slipping them up underneath it, feeling the soft skin of his belly.

"Gee," Frank whispered, lips moving over his cheek and jaw, and then he was licking Gerard's neck with short, teasing strokes. "Mmm, you smell so good, Gee," Frank whispered huskily, biting his earlobe, before moving down to kiss a spot just below his ear that was extra sensitive.

"Frankie," Gerard whined, moving one hand up to tangle with Frank's hair, dragging his fingernails over his scalp as Frank moved down again, to a spot just over his pulse, and sucked hard. "Oh, oh God, please don't stop." Frank only hummed in response, but Gerard could feel it so fucking good. He bucked his hips up against Frank's because fuck, he needed some friction down there, but then, all of a sudden, Frank wasn't there anymore.

Gerard blinked, and then Mikey was there on the bed with him, dropping something heavy on the mattress and shaking Gerard's shoulders and pressing two fingers to his neck as if to feel for a pulse. "Oh my God, Gee, are you okay? I'm sorry we didn't get down here sooner."

Gerard glanced down at whatever Mikey had tossed on the bed and found a big crucifix he recognized from the boxes of his grandmother's things. "Wait, you're not bleeding," Mikey said, but Gerard didn't hear him, he only heard a pained whimper from across the room.

He pushed Mikey off and finally saw the other two people in the room. Pete, standing up and holding another big crucifix and a branch of garlic, and Frank, curled up on the floor against the wall. He got up and pushed Pete to the floor, surprisingly easy, and the crucifix and garlic landed somewhere by the bed, far away from Frank, who was still curled in on himself, arms covering his face.

Gerard kneeled in front of him and placed his hands on Frank's arms, as gently as he could. "Gerard, I don't think you should—"

"Mikey, you fucking did this, either you shut the fuck up, or get the fuck out of here, or please, do fucking both," Gerard snapped at his brother, who was helping Pete back up. He turned back to Frank who still hadn't moved his arms. "Frank, Frankie, it's me," he whispered, tugging softly on Frank's forearms, rubbing the skin with his thumbs. "Please, Frankie."

Frank slowly lowered first one, then the other arm, and the sight in front of Gerard shocked him, because what he saw, it couldn't be, it wasn't real. It wasn't Frank. Or, at least it wasn't Frank's face. Gerard didn't know where to look, Frank eyebrows were just gone! His forehead was scrunched up like in an extreme frown, and he looked, Gerard didn't want to think it, but he looked almost like a vampire from Buffy. He had never really understood what the meant when they said the vampires had 'bumpy' foreheads, but he did now, when he could see it up close. There were tiny bumps everywhere, mostly where his gorgeous eyebrows used to be.

The eyes were almost the same, only darker, but Gerard believed that's because they looked frightened and hurt. The lips were red, looking a little swollen, and kind of standing out a little from the teeth, as if Frank had gotten braces and wasn't used to it yet. The lips parted, and Gerard could see that there were no braces, only sharp, white teeth. They didn't look too different from a normal person's teeth, only the canines were much longer and with sharp points.

Gerard thought about the murders. He closed his eyes and thought about all the sketches he had made of the victims, with the tiny little holes in their throats, made from what Gerard thought was a needle. He thought about the distance between the canines, and the distance between the marks in his drawings. Had he known all along? Had he believed, subconsciously, but kept fighting Mikey's theories anyway?

A sound made him open his eyes again, and he was met with Frank's eyes. They really were Frank's eyes, he could tell now, and they were sad. It took him a moment to realize the sound he had heard had been Frank saying his name. "Gee," he said again, but his voice was weird, darker, _blacker_ , somehow, but it wasn't the first time Gerard had heard it. It was the voice Frank had used that time with his friends, Ryan and the other guy.

"Frankie," he whispered, raising a hand to Frank's cheek, running his thumb over the red lips, touching the strange teeth, before lifting it higher to caress the bumpy forehead. Frank seemed to relax, leaning in to the touch as he watched Gerard, who smiled when he noticed. "Frankie, you should have told me."

There were so many things he didn't understand, things that didn't make sense, and he wanted to ask Frank about them. He wanted Frank to tell him everything, to explain, to tell him that he didn't kill all of those people, that there were other vampires in Belleville and that they were the ones who killed people. He wanted Frank to tell him that there was some kind of misunderstanding.

Frank's face changed back to normal, and it was so weird. Gerard could feel his eyebrows growing back, the soft hairs poking through the skin as the bumps disappeared into the skull. He watched as the fangs shrank back into their normal size, and Frank's lips closed over his teeth. Smiling, Gerard moved his hand down to cup Frank's cheek again, leaning in to kiss him, but Frank turned his face at the last second, and Gerard's nose just bumped into his cheek.

"Don't," Frank said, his voice having gone back to normal. He pushed Gerard away, removed his hand from his face, and said, "Don't touch me, Gee." He sounded sad, and he looked sad, but when Gerard tried to take his hand, he shook it off and stood up. Gerard watched as Frank grabbed his jacket off the bed and put it on as he walked towards the door.

"Don't come back here," Mikey said before Gerard could stop him. "You're not welcome in this house." Then Frank was gone, and Gerard couldn't breathe. It was as if a giant hand was squeezing his chest, his ribcage, his lungs and heart, and crushing him. Then tears started to roll down his cheeks, and he just sat there.

What if Frank didn't come back?

"Gee? Gee, are you okay?" It was Mikey's voice, and Mikey's hand on Gerard's shoulder. He shrugged it off. He didn't want to talk to Mikey. He didn't want to fucking look at him. He didn't want to hear his stupid, sad and worried voice say his name.

"Get out," he said, voice raspy. "Get the fuck out of my room." He spoke so quietly it was a miracle Pete and Mikey even heard him, but they did leave, so he supposed that they must have.

He stayed on the floor as he listened to their heavy footsteps going upstairs, then he got up and went to the door. He didn't put on shoes or anything, just stepped outside, walking through the garden and to the deserted street. "Frank?" he called, but the only response he got was a dog barking a few houses down the street.

He waited there a few minutes, calling Frank's name a couple of more times, before finally giving up and going back inside. His feet were freezing, but he didn't care as he entered his room and lay on the bed, still wearing pants, on top of the covers, and cried. He didn't move all night, and he didn't get up to go to school the next morning. There were too many thoughts racing around in his head, thoughts he couldn't even really identify just yet, and it was slowly driving him mad.

The only change that happened over the night was that his tear ducts dried out and he stopped crying. His eyes hurt and his cheeks felt raw, and he still didn't know what to think. He still had no idea whether Frank would come back or not. Mikey's words had been so absolute, so definite; it really felt as if he had overruled Gerard's invitation to the house that night so long ago. Frank had to come back, though, he had to. They needed to talk, and Gerard could just invite him in again, and he would, Frank must have known that.

His mother came in, not bothering to knock, just after eight and told him he had to go to school. When he said he wasn't feeling well, her face fell for a short moment, and then she said, "Gerard, sweetheart, with your grades, and after that talk with the Principal a few weeks ago, you really can't afford to miss school."

He rolled over then, for the first time all night, from his stomach to his side, and said again, "Mom, I'm really not feeling well." She must have seen the tear stains then, because she stepped forward and sat on the bed, reaching out to stroke his matted hair out of his face.

"Tell me what's wrong, dear. Is it boy trouble?" If Gerard hadn't been feeling so awful and exhausted, he might have laughed, but he didn't. Instead, he just curled into a ball and leaned into his mother's soft touch.

"I guess you could say that," he whispered, adding "And I hate Mikey," a moment later.

"Aw, it's a good thing he's your brother then," she said, a smile in her voice. "You'll get over it, and so will he." Gerard really hoped she was right because hating Mikey was really wearing on him, especially now that he was also heartbroken because of Frank. "All right," Mrs. Way said after a long moment of silence. "You can stay home today, but I don't want you to start slacking in school just because of this. Promise me you'll at least try to study some?"

"I promise," he said, and then she left. After that, Gerard could finally fall asleep.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey and his friends are working day and night to find out exactly what happened to his brother, to find the thing that's responsible, and to kill it. 
> 
> Five and a half years ago, something dark settled over Belleville, NJ. A series of strange murders started to happen, and a stranger arrived in town and got a job at Bachmeier's, the local bar where minors hung out and drank beer. Gerard Way and his friends were frequent visitors, and the new bartender left an impression on him the very first night they met. Their connection continued to grow, and Gerard fell, recklessly and fast, in love with the newcomer. Meanwhile, Gerard's brother Mikey and his best friend tried to investigate the murders, and made a terrible discovery that would change all of their lives forever.

**Tuesday, November 15th, 2016**

Mikey's expecting the guys to want to be more involved now, after they had that big, important talk when they had lunch, but he's left feeling disappointed. He's expecting them to want to take action, to want to go out there and slay some fucking vampires, but he can't even find Ray, Bob or Brian when he wants to make up a plan. Instead he gets Pete, who is only there to make up excuses for all of them and try and convince him yet again that it's too soon and too dangerous to go out there.

"But if we wait too long they could take off!" Mikey yells for what feels like the hundredth time, standing on one side of the bed he shares with Pete, who is standing on the other side.

"But they obviously aren't going to leave!" Pete yells back. "If they were even considering it, they would have left ages ago. They knew we were here the moment we arrived. They're not going to run; they're going to kill us."

"If they want to kill us, they could have killed me last night. But they didn't, Pete. They left stupid little notes, telling me to leave. They're scared."

"They're not scared, Mikey. Can you fucking hear yourself? They have nothing to be scared of. We're amateurs, we have no idea what we're doing, and we've hardly ever even faced a vampire and killed it." Mikey just stares at Pete, who's panting lightly. "Maybe they didn't kill you last night because they wanted to give you a chance to run, but if you go back tonight, despite their warning..." Pete's words trail off and he turns away, raising a hand to cover his face.

"What, Pete? What do you think is going to happen? You think they're gonna kill me?" Mikey's voice is flat and disconnected, trying not to let any emotion show. "Do you even care?"

"What kind of question is that?" Pete shouts, removing his hand from his face. "I love you! I've given you fucking everything! Just because I don't have some fucked up death wish, it doesn't mean I don't care."

"A death wish?" Mikey yells back, slowly lowering his voice. "You think I want to die?" Pete doesn't say anything. "I don't. I just want to find these monsters and kill them, no matter what. If I die in the process, then that's fine by me. It's not like I have a whole lot to live for anyway."

"You have me," Pete says softly, hands twitching at his sides as if he wants to move, but can't find it in him. Both of them have been frozen to the floor since the fight started. "You'll always have me, Mikey."

"Then explain to me, Pete, why you'd rather spend your time with Patrick than with me. You won't even talk to me about going out to find the vampires; you're too busy making moon eyes at him." Mikey's voice is dark, but it has gone back to its regular volume.

"What? Fucking hell, Mikey. Don't make this about him."

"See? Even now when he's not even here, you'd rather take his side and defend him than explain to me why you're always off with him." Pete doesn't reply to that, and Mikey finally decides to leave the room. He needs to get out of there, and to find that cemetery again so that he can find the vampires. He can't look at Pete right now; he needs to get as far away from him as possible.

He's not expecting to get jumped at the moment he reaches the bottom step of the stairs, though, and the person who does it is the one he least expected to see at all. "Brian, what the fuck?" He sighs. "If Pete put you up to this, to try and talk me out of going, you can give up right now and not waste both of our valuable time."

"I wanna go with you," Brian says, his face a little flushed and turned down toward the floor. "I didn't come out here with you to just sit on my ass and make friends. I came because I want to find those assholes, find Frank, and fucking kill him."

"Okay," Mikey says before he's given himself time to really think about it. He's not overjoyed that it's Brian who's asking to come with him, but he can't deny that he's glad that he doesn't have to go back out there alone. "Do you have any weapons?" Brian shakes his head, and Mikey sighs. "Okay, let's go upstairs and get you some." He doesn't want to go back to his and Pete's room, but that's where the weapons are. Thankfully, Pete isn't there anymore, and Mikey can dig out a crucifix and a stake for Brian without any trouble.

He's just about ready to leave when he looks up and sees a book lying on the bed, and he considers trying the protection spell he had found that afternoon, but he shakes his head to himself and decides not to. He doesn't even have all of the things he needs to properly perform it, and although it said in the book that if you are truly desperate, you can replace some items with ones you can usually find in the average household, Mikey knows he can't do magic that well. He's nowhere near powerful or skilled enough.

He thinks about Saturday, about the meeting where he had talked everyone into going to Chicago, and how Pete had helped convince them all. He remembers Pete saying _'Mikey's getting pretty good at the magic thing,'_ and he almost laughs at the memory. He had fooled them all into thinking he actually knew what he was doing, that the spells he was trying were working. He _had_ fooled them, but now he's not so sure they believe it anymore.

He wishes they had a real witch in their gang, that they had a Willow, a Wiccan so fucking powerful they could kill vampires just by looking at them.

"Mikey, are you okay?" Brian asks after what must have been a long moment of Mikey staring into space, at the book on the bed.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

*

Brian tries to start a few conversations as they walk the same way Mikey had gone the night before, but Mikey refuses to answer any question with more than one-syllable words. He didn't bring Brian for company; he brought him because no matter how dangerous these streets are, it's definitely safer not to be on your own.

He breathes out a shuddery breath when he can see the rusty gate of the cemetery. It had been open last night, but now it's closed, and Mikey's sure no human has entered since he left. It's another warning, he realizes, but he doesn't tell Brian. Instead, he pushes the gate open and walks in, getting the flashlight he has brought with him out.

"Mikey, are you sure this is it? It looks abandoned to me," Brian says, taking in the scene of old, overgrown graves and illegible tombstones. Brian moves forward as Mikey stops to light the flashlight, shining it in the directions of where he had found the two notes the previous night, but the one he had left is no longer there. Other than that, everything looks the same. "Mikey," Brian shouts, trying to get his attention. "There's nothing here."

Mikey walks up to him and sighs. "Were you expecting them to just be standing around doing nothing?"

"No, I just—" Brian starts to say, but then he goes quiet just as Mikey feels a cold hand close around his throat, and a rough voice whispers in his ear, "Don't move, or I'll snap your neck like a twig." Mikey considers reaching for a stake, or the crucifix in his front pocket, but the voice says, "Don't even think about it. You and your friend will be dead before you can reach any of your weapons."

He opens his eyes, not even realizing that he's closed them, and meets Brian's terrified face. There's someone holding him as well, a big hand closed tightly around his tattooed neck, Brian's hand scratching helplessly at the strong arm, trying to get loose. Mikey hates the face of the one holding Brian as soon as he looks at it. It's smiling, a broad, devilish grin, showing off rows of perfect, pearl white teeth that Mikey can only dream of breaking and pulling out. The eyes are almost black; the eyelashes dark and long, eyebrows perfect arches above. The dark hair is shaved off, and there's a silver ring on the left side of his nose.

"Who are you?" Mikey whispers, although he can hardly breathe. Whoever it is that's holding him is lifting him up so that his toes are just barely brushing the ground.

"Why don't you tell us?" the raspy voice whispers into his ear. "Who are we? You should know."

"You know what, Dewees?" the other one says, black eyes sparkling, looking almost pretty. "I don't think they know. I don't think they know fucking shit. I mean, they obviously don't know how to fucking read, so how would they know anything else?"

"You left the notes?" Mikey splutters. "You wrote them?"

The pretty one laughs. "No, of course we didn't write them. You _know_ who wrote them."

"That's enough, Pedicone," the raspy voice says, and the pretty one frowns, until Mikey realizes he's not just frowning. His forehead is bumpy and his eyebrows have disappeared, and his teeth, his teeth are grazing Brian's throat, canines long and sharp and ready to pierce the skin. Mikey can see his nostrils flare as he sniffs at Brian's hair, breathing him in and savoring his scent.

"You're with Frank, aren't you?" Mikey says, finally managing to tear his eyes off of Brian and Pedicone. "It was him, wasn't it? He wrote the notes."

Both Dewees and Pedicone laughs, and the sounds are cold and hollow. "You think you're so smart, kid, getting this far, but really, you have no fucking idea what you're up against." Pedicone's voice is ice-cold and dark, just like Mikey remembers Frank's voice. He steps closer to Mikey, dragging Brian with him, and in the light of the flashlight Mikey can clearly make out his demon face. "If I were you, I'd take your dead brother's advice and get the fuck out of here."

Mikey flinches at the mention of Gerard, and Dewees says, "Pedicone, you need to fucking back off and chill, man."

Pedicone gives a shrill laugh and staggers back again, tugging Brian along by his jacket and hair. "Sure, I'll back off, Dewees. I'll back off with little lover boy here, and we can have a great time together." He tugs Brian's head up and leans in close to his throat again, actually licking the skin this time. "We're gonna have so much fun, kid," he whispers quietly, but somehow, Mikey can still hear it. "I'm gonna suck you dry."

"No!" Mikey shouts before he can stop himself, and Brian whimpers. It's the first sound he's made since the two vampires showed up, and Mikey's glad to know he's still conscious, and not entirely frozen by fear. He can feel everyone's eyes on him, so he asks, "Why'd you call him that? Lover boy?"

"Ha!" Dewees's raspy voice laughs in his ear. "Wouldn't you like to know that?"

"I'm sure he can tell you himself," Pedicone says, and Mikey's beyond confused. He had thought when they first said it that they thought Brian was Pete, but that's obviously not it. He wonders if it's Brian's kind of player persona that's brought on the nickname, but why would these two vampires that they've never even met before know anything about that?

"Tell him, kid," Pedicone urges Brian. "Tell him now, and we'll let you go."

"Hey, no, we can't just let them go," Dewees objects, and Pedicone might be rolling his eyes. It's hard to tell with his fucked up vampire face. "Give us your word that you won't come back here and that you'll fucking get out of Chicago, then we'll let you go."

"Okay, sure," Mikey says quickly. "We'll go." He tries to shake Dewees off, but the vampire just says, "Not so fast. That kid has to tell you."

"Brian, what—" Mikey starts, but Brian interrupts him. "I was in love with him. I don't know how they know, Mikey, but I was." He sighs, and then says again, "I was in love with him."

There's only one word in Mikey's head that matter right then, and he can't get it out of his head that Frank had had another one in their group in his grasp. He had played them all. "You— You and— You were in love with _Frank?_ " he finally spits out, and to his surprise, Brian looks absolutely horrified, and both Dewees and Pedicone are laughing again.

"No! I was in love with Gerard!" Brian practically shouts the name out, and it echoes softly in the cemetery, echoes against the tombstones and crypts and disappears among the trees along with the vampires who had let go of them as soon as Gerard's name had left Brian's lips.

Brian staggers and falls to his knees, and Mikey stumbles a little but supports himself on the nearest tombstone and regains his balance. They leave shortly after, Brian being really shaken up and not wanting to linger.

Mikey waits until they've walked about a mile, and then asks, "So, what about you and Gerard? He knew you liked him?" Brian shudders next to him, and Mikey's pretty sure it's not from the cold.

"Yeah, he knew. I told him, just a few weeks into his relationship with Frank. You know, the movie night we had after you and Pete did the garlic thing, and Gerard refused to talk to anyone all night?" Mikey nods. "Well, we talked, after you and Pete had left, and Bob and Ray were snoring on the other couch. We talked, and I told him how I felt, and we kissed."

"You kissed him?" Mikey says, shocked that Brian would have done that. "While he was with Frank?"

"He kissed me," Brian corrects him, and Mikey's jaw all but drops to the ground. "Then he insisted on telling Frank afterwards, and I was hoping they'd break up because of it, but Frank must have forgiven him and let it go."

"Except for how he's told other vampires about you." Mikey meets Brian's eyes for a moment, and Brian looks absolutely terrified.

"Mikey, that wasn't the only time we kissed." Mikey opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, Brian says, "He's gonna kill me, isn't he?"

Mikey doesn't know what to say to that, so he just reaches out and pats Brian's shoulder until he's figured it out. "He's not gonna kill you. We're going to make sure of that. It's gonna be okay, Brian."

"Thanks," Brian replies softly and puts his hand on top of Mikey's on his shoulder, lacing their fingers. "Oh, and I'd be really grateful if you didn't tell anyone about Gerard and me. Bob knows, but that's it."

"Of course. That's none of my business anyway."

It's still dark out when they get back to the house, and Mikey feels exhausted after finding out all this new information and running into Pedicone and Dewees. He doesn't want to go upstairs to the room he shares with Pete, though, not after the fight they had earlier, so he goes into the living room and sits on a couch.

"You're not going to bed?" Brian says, shrugging his coat off.

"I think I'll just take a nap down here, or something," Mikey replies lamely, and Brian snorts.

"If you don't wanna talk to Pete, you can sleep in my room. I'm not sharing with anybody, and there are two single beds." Mikey smiles at him, even if it makes his cheeks ache because he hasn't used those muscles in so long.

"Thank you."

*

**Monday, February 21st 2011**

Gerard slept almost all day. He didn't sleep well, having strange dreams about dead bodies, sharp teeth and Frank, and he woke up at least once every hour. He rolled over and went back to sleep, though, casting himself into yet another nightmare where something was chasing him.

He gave up on sleep just after four in the afternoon, and finally got up off the bed and went upstairs to get something to eat. He wasn't exactly hungry, but he knew he needed something, and he was craving coffee anyway. Mikey and Pete were nowhere to be seen, but just in case they'd show up like they usually did, Gerard brought the coffee and sandwich he'd made back down to his room.

He tried to study after that, attempting to solve some stupid algebra problems, but he ended up sketching in the notebook instead. He didn't even know at first what he was drawing, but as the sketch grew, he recognized the long fangs and the scrunched up, bumpy face from last night. "My boyfriend is a vampire," he said out loud, but it didn't sound like him, and it didn't sound real. He wrote it down under the sketch, and added, _'and I still love him.'_

There was a knock on the basement door about an hour later, and Gerard's heart started beating faster the second he heard it. It's what he had been waiting for all day, for it to get dark, and for Frank to come and knock on his fucking door, and now that it was happening, he wasn't sure what to do. There was another sharp knock, though, and Gerard jumped up and almost jogged to the door and threw it open. "Frank, thank God, I—" he said, but then he stopped, because Frank wasn't there.

"Hey, Gee," Ray said, and Gerard could feel his face fall. "I brought some of your books." Gerard just stared at him, not saying anything, not stepping aside to let anyone in.

"Look, Gerard, Mikey told us what happened and we—" Bob started to say, but he fell silent as Brian suddenly stepped forward and hugged Gerard tight.

Gerard clung to him instinctively, burrowing his face in Brian's neck while he patted his hair soothingly. He wasn't sure if it was because Brian was short and had the same built as Frank, making the embrace feel familiar, or if it was because of the kiss, because he knew that Brian cared.

"It's gonna be okay, Gee," Brian whispered in Gerard's ear, still patting his hair and rubbing his back soothingly. "You're going to be alright. You're not alone, you have all of us. You can talk to us," he said all of that loud enough for Bob and Ray to hear, and then dropped his voice again. "You can talk to me, Gerard. You can talk to me."

Gerard pulled away first, keeping his head down and not looking at any of his friends. "You should go. I'm waiting for Frank to come over," he said, and he could hear all three of his friends sigh heavily.

"Gee," Ray tried to say, but Gerard stopped him. "No. I appreciate you stopping by, and bringing my books," Ray hurriedly handed them over, "but the only person I want to see right now is Frank, so." He made a wavy little hand gesture.

"Fine," Bob replied. "We'll go, but you can still talk to us."

They left after that, and Gerard went back inside and started to draw again while he waited for Frank to show up. Hours later there was still no sign of Frank, though, and Gerard was starting to get hungry, but he didn't want to go upstairs in case Frank showed up and he missed it.

As if by some higher power, Mikey chose that moment to knock on Gerard's bedroom door, opening it just a little bit to peek inside before pushing it open all the way. "Go away," Gerard said as soon as he saw him and, when Mikey ignored him, Gerard looked back down at his current drawing of Frank's vampire face. He just listened as Mikey came inside and put a tray down on the bed next to Gerard before moving his hands to Gerard's shoulders and rubbing them softly until Gerard shrugged his hands off. He glanced at the tray where there was a huge plate of spaghetti Bolognese, and his stomach grumbled.

"Mom prepared a plate for you when we had dinner and put it in the fridge," Mikey said easily. "When you still hadn't come up to eat, I figured I'd bring it downstairs for you. You need to eat."

"I'm waiting for Frank," Gerard said, and he could feel Mikey turning to look at Gerard's alarm clock. He wasn't sure what time it was, and he didn't want to turn to look when Mikey was there, but he knew it was late.

"Okay," Mikey said, sounding resigned. "I'll check on you later." He left without waiting for a response, and Gerard threw himself at the pasta. He was ravenous, not having eaten much all day, and it was probably the best spaghetti he had ever had.

Once it was gone and he had set the tray aside, he went back to drawing. He had probably done at least twenty-five of those drawings of Frank, all of them different. Most of them showed his monstrous vampire face, but some of them were Frank as Gerard had always known him, and a few of those were with added vampire fangs. Frank was smiling in all the pictures where his face looked normal, and in the others he just looked angry or sad. Gerard wasn't very good at transforming that face into different emotions, but Frank had been sad last night, so he knew what that looked like, and it seemed kind of angry by default, so that was easy too.

The hours kept passing by, and still Frank didn't knock on the door. Mikey had probably forgotten about coming to check on him, because he didn't come back down either. Gerard wasn't sure he was happy or sad about that, because no matter how angry he was at Mikey right now, how much he hated him for doing that to Frank and for very possibly ruining Gerard and Frank's relationship, he knew that Mikey did it to protect him. He loved Mikey for that, and he loved him just for being his little brother, and Gerard didn't really want to be alone.

He didn't want to go to sleep either, but he knew he had to try and go back to school the next day, so just after one thirty, when he figured that if Frank was coming he would have come by now, he got ready for bed. He lay in bed, trying to sleep, for about fifteen minutes before he heard someone coming downstairs, and then Mikey opened the door and tiptoed his way to the bed. He didn't ask for permission or anything, just lifted the covers and crawled into bed behind Gerard, snuggling in close and wrapping an arm around him, and Gerard couldn't help but curl into the embrace.

"Frank didn't come back," Gerard whispered quietly, once Mikey had settled down with his cheek resting against the back of Gerard's neck.

"I'm sorry, Gee," Mikey said, although Gerard knew that he probably wasn't. Not about the right things, anyway.

"You shouldn't have told him to not come back, Mikey. You shouldn't have told him he isn't welcome here."

"Gerard, he isn't. Frank is dangerous. He has killed people. A lot of people, and there's no way to say how long he was going to wait before hurting or killing you too." Mikey sounded sad, as if he was about to cry. "I know you care about him, but I am not going to let him hurt you."

"You don't know that he would hurt me. I love him, Mikey, and I know that he cares about me." Gerard felt as if he was going to cry too, but his eyes were still all dried up. "I've felt his heartbeat, Mikey."

"Gee, he doesn't even have a heartbeat. He's dead," Mikey exclaimed a little louder than before, and Gerard sighed, remembering the previous night, just moments before Mikey and Pete had come in and ruined everything. He had held his hand over Frank's chest, and he had felt it, he had felt a heart beating in there.

"I've felt it, Mikey," he said again, but Mikey didn't answer him this time. Instead he found Gerard's hand in the dark and laced their fingers.

Then he gave it a soft squeeze and pressed it to Gerard's chest and murmured, "I love you, Gee." Gerard squeezed Mikey's hand, and pressed back against his chest, wanting to get closer, and like that, he fell asleep.

*

**Friday, February 25th 2011**

It was one of the longest weeks in Gerard's life. He didn't exactly like his life normally, and without Frank around, or going out at night, it was like living in fucking hell. School was endurable as long as he was with his friends, but as soon as he was going anywhere on his own, Saporta and his cronies were right there, cornering him in bathrooms or shoving him against lockers. They were like predators, sensing how weak their prey was, how badly Gerard was hurting.

He wasn't sleeping well either, still having the strange nightmares about Frank and vampires, and dead bodies being everywhere. He even had one where he dreamed that he died, but instead of waking up in his room, he woke up in a coffin and he couldn't get out. Mikey slept in Gerard's room for two nights, but after that dream happened, Mikey stayed up the rest of the night and then got detention for falling asleep in class. Gerard had felt guilty and said that he'd be okay, although he really wasn't. It was always easier to wake up from bad dreams when there was someone else there.

On Friday, an old friend of his father who had been battling cancer for a really long time was getting worse, so both him and his wife left for Trenton that afternoon. Mrs. Way hadn't been happy at all about leaving Mikey and Gerard all alone after everything that had happened, even though there hadn't been any murders since the one across the street, but she did go. As soon as the parents' car had pulled out of the driveway, Mikey suggested that they had a little party.

Gerard wasn't really feeling up for a party, but he knew that it was to make him feel better, and Mikey seemed so excited about it that he didn't have the heart to say no. Before he knew it, all of the guys were there, including Pete and Brian, which Gerard had been worried would make it awkward, but they brought beer, pizza and movies, which made it all much better. There were no horror movies, most likely because of Gerard's situation, which made it all a lot better, and when you added the beer, the movies that they did watch were actually a lot of fun.

They watched mostly Disney movies, actually, as well as Peter Pan because Pete apparently had a thing for half-naked, flying (prepubescent) boys. Gerard chose not to comment on that, and instead focused on the rest of the movie and the concept of never growing up, which lead him to think about never growing old. That's how he came to think about Frank for the first time in hours, after drinking and laughing and watching the Lion King and Beauty and the Beast, and he almost started crying right there, because it had been almost a week since he last saw Frank.

He managed to fight it back until Peter Pan ended and they put on another movie, and slipped out during the opening credits, and into the bathroom just down the hall. He had barely closed the door before he leaned against it and slid down to the floor, soft sobs already shaking his body and slow tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn't cried since Sunday night. He hadn't seen Frank since Sunday night either, and there hadn't been a murder since Saturday night. Mikey and the others believed that it was because Frank had left town, and Gerard didn't have anything to prove otherwise.

They hadn't been to Bachmeier's all week because all of them had gotten a curfew, with very few exceptions. One exception had been when Ray and the others came to deliver Gerard's books on Monday, when it had been a short visit and they had borrowed Ray's dad's car. Another exception was tonight, when they had all sworn that they were going to stay in the house and not let anyone in because they were only going to watch movies and cheer Gerard up. They had all gotten rides to Mikey and Gerard's house.

It meant that there was no way of going to Bachmeier's, though, unless you snuck out, which Gerard was not ready to do, and therefore no way of checking if Frank had left or not.

Now, after a week of uncertainty, it all came flooding back to him, and he couldn't hold it off. He tried to cry as quietly as possible, not to alert any of the other guys, hoping that they'd just think he'd gone down to his room to go to bed, but after a few minutes there was a light knock on the door anyway.

Gerard reached up and unlocked the door without hesitation, thinking it was just Mikey, but when the door swung open and Gerard turned to see who it was, he was met with Brian. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, but didn't wait to step inside and close the door. He sat down next to Gerard, who realized that his face was still covered in tears and is just about to raise a hand to wipe them off when Brian stops him with a hand on his. "Hey, are you alright?"

Before Gerard could answer him, Brian's cupped his face and wiped his cheeks with his thumbs, offering a gentle smile. "Brian, I—" Gerard started to say, but his voice broke and new tears started to stream down his face, and Brian lowered his hands and pulled Gerard close. Gerard shifted so that his side was against the wall, and pressed close to Brian, face against his neck and hands clutching at his sides. "I miss him," Gerard whispers weakly. "I miss him, Brian. How could he just leave me like that?"

"I don't know, Gee," Brian said softly, rubbing a soothing hand over his back, and one over the back of his neck. "I don't know why he left like that, but I do know that no one else is going to leave you."

"I thought I loved him, Brian. I thought I— But now I'm not so sure, because he left." Gerard shuddered, finally having said that out loud. He didn’t really doubt his feelings, but it felt like he could let it go easier if he didn't think the feelings went that deep. "I can't love someone who isn't here, can I?"

"Gerard, I don't know. I don't know how you feel." The hand Brian had on his neck moved up into Gerard's hair, and he practically purred, it felt so nice. "I just know that I care about you, and so do all the others, Bob and Ray, and Mikey and Pete."

Gerard felt a strange smile on his face, and he pressed it closer to Brian's neck with a soft sigh. "You care about me, more than the others, don't you, Brian? You care about me, and you want me. You told me so." Gerard's breathing was getting heavier, and he was pressed so close to Brian, his body feeling so fucking hot. He kissed his skin, tongue slipping out to taste it, and Brian gasped.

"Gerard, what are you doing? Are you drunk?" Gerard pulled back and straightened up, and just looked at Brian whose face was flushed red, eyes bright and shining, nervous and scared, and his lips were parted just a bit, breathing fast. Gerard wanted to kiss him, even if he didn't exactly know why, if it was just because Brian was there, or because he knew Brian wouldn't say no, or because he knew how Brian's mouth felt against his.

"Brian, I just want—" He moved one of his hands up to Brian's face and caressed his cheek, feeling a little surprised at the scratchy stubble that he had never felt with Frank. It was good, though, because he was trying to forget Frank.

"I just want you to kiss me," he whispered, and he could feel Brian's shudder against his skin. Their mouths met shortly, and Gerard's hand slid into Brian's short hair, fingernails scratching the scalp and dragging a soft moan of surprise from Brian.

Brian's lip ring felt hot against Gerard's mouth, and he sucked on it, swirling his tongue around it until Brian tugged it loose and pushed his tongue in between Gerard's lips. Gerard sucked it, hard, and pulled Brian closer, fingers digging into his side and sliding up underneath his shirt, and Brian moaned again. "Gee, oh God," he panted softly, and Gerard grinned.

"C'mere," he whispered, tugging on Brian until he settled on Gerard's lap, arms around his neck and thighs on either side of Gerard's. "Kiss me, Brian." He didn't need telling twice, but shoved his tongue back down Gerard's throat, hand twisting and twirling in his hair while Gerard's slid up over Brian's back, under his t-shirt, feeling every inch of skin.

"You're so beautiful, Gee," Brian breathed heavily, dragging his mouth over Gerard's cheek. He kissed Gerard's neck, moving from his ear to his collarbone and up again, and Gerard tilted his head for him, giving him all the access he wanted. "I wanna touch you, and kiss you and taste you everywhere," he whispered, and Gerard groaned, digging his fingers into Brian's back. He was starting to get hard, and he was fairly sure Brian was too, and he wanted more than anything to get their clothes off and get on his knees for Brian, but not _there._ Not in the bathroom with his brother and friends in the living room just down the hall.

"Let's go to my room," he panted, moving his hands to Brian's chest and pushing lightly. "I don't want to do this here."

"This?" Brian pulled back; face hovering just over Gerard's, his eyes full of uncertainty.

"Yeah, this," Gerard murmured, tilting his head up to brush his lips against Brian's. "This, you and me." He let a hand drop from Brian's chest to his lap where he could definitely feel his erection growing. He palmed it lightly, and Brian groaned, low and soft, barely even audible unless you were as close as Gerard was. "You want to, don't you?"

"Yeah, yes, Gee." He nodded, and then leaned in and kissed Gerard quickly before standing up and holding his hands out for Gerard. "Come on, I—" He stopped whatever he was trying to say and just looked up at Gerard, his eyes appearing green in the bright light. His hand curled around the back of Gerard's neck, pulling him down into another kiss. "Let's go."

They walked as quietly as they possibly could just across the hallway to the basement stairs, and even more quietly down the creaky steps. Gerard couldn't help but giggle stupidly, and drunkenly, when he finally shut his bedroom door behind him. Brian didn't waste a moment before pushing him up against it and kissing the shit out of him.

"Fuck, I wanna see you, Gee," Brian panted, pulling away for just a second.

"Yeah, yeah," Gerard replied when opportunity came, raising his arms into the air and helping Brian pull both his hoodie and t-shirt over his head, leaving his upper body bare.

"So beautiful, Gee," Brian said, a little breathlessly, and tugged him in close and reached up to kiss him again. Gerard kissed back heatedly, pushed off the door and walked them toward the bed. They turned around so that Gerard could lie down with Brian on top, and Gerard couldn't help but giggle as he pushed himself up to lie on the pillows, Brian crawling on all fours over him, this hungry look in his eyes.

"I've thought about this, so much," Brian sounded more breathless than ever, and it was so hot to hear the want, the need and the desperation in his voice. Gerard hadn't thought about this at all, though. Brian was hot, but as far Gerard knew up until two weeks ago, Brian was straight, and did not have any trouble hooking up with girls. And Gerard had had Frank. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest as the thought passed through his mind, though he wasn't sure of why he felt guilty.

"Gee," Brian whispered with the same tone of desperation before kissing him softly, nudging his mouth open with his tongue, and Gerard slid his hands into Brian's hair.

Brian's hands were starting to move over Gerard's chest now, fingertips gently exploring every inch of skin, pressing into his ribs and teasing his hardened nipples. "Yeah, Brian, touch me." Brian kissed his neck, sucking hard, before sliding down further, over his collarbones and chest, nipping teasingly at the skin, just like Frank used to... "Oh God, fuck," Gerard moaned when Brian sucked his nipple into his mouth, biting down a little before running his wet tongue over it again and again.

When Brian finally slid his hand down over Gerard's stomach, he was ready to fucking lose it, because he hadn't even touched himself over the last week because of what had happened with Frank. Brian scraped his fingernails over the skin below Gerard's navel, and Gerard didn't even know he loved that, because Frank had never done it and Frank was the only one he had ever done this with before. But now Frank had left him.

"Gee, are you okay?" Brian had his hand on top of Gerard's cock, but he was looking up at him with eyes full of concern. Gerard's eyes felt heavy when he opened them, like he was sleepy, but he didn't feel sleepy, or tired.

"Yeah, of course I am. Just, don't stop." His voice came out weaker than he wanted it too, so maybe he was a little tired, but not tired enough to stop.

"Gerard, you're not even hard." That was weird, because Gerard was sure he was. He had to be, because he was definitely fucking turned on, and you couldn't get turned on without getting hard, could you? Maybe he was more tired than he thought. "Gee, are you crying?"

"What? No!" Gerard exclaimed, probably a little too quickly, because then he felt a familiar wetness around his eyes. He raised a hand to wipe it off, and said, "I'm not crying. I just—" He stopped when he heard how broken his voice sounded, and Brian sighed.

Gerard sat up and Brian got off his lap and sat next to him, wrapping one arm around his waist and raising the other one to gently wipe away the remaining tears from Gerard's raw and tender cheeks. He laid his head on Brian's shoulder and wished that Brian had never told him he liked him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, pressing a tiny kiss to Brian's neck.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Brian said, squeezing his waist.

"Yeah, I do. I was thinking about Frank." Gerard felt Brian's body stiffen before he heard the low, bitter "Oh," and then he loosened his grip on Gerard's waist. "Brian, I didn't mean to. It's just— He's the only guy I've ever been with before, and I miss him."

"I'll just go," Brian said hurriedly, already standing up before Gerard could get a hold of his wrist to get him to stay.

"Don't. Brian, just... Stay, please? Stay." He gave Brian one of his best pleading looks and tugged on his hand until he sat down on the edge of the bed again. Leaning close, he rested his forehead against the side of Brian's face, and whispered, "I sleep better when I know I'm not alone." He pressed one kiss to his cheek and, when Brian turned his head, one to his mouth.

"Okay." Gerard got up and went to the bathroom after that, and got ready for bed. When he got back out, Brian had undressed and apparently dug out a pair of Gerard's old PJ bottoms with Batman on them. He disappeared into the bathroom next, and Gerard took his jeans off and put on an old pair of sweatpants. He crawled into bed and was already half asleep when Brian came back and crawled in under the covers, staying on his side of the bed so that they didn't touch.

"Goodnight, Gee."

"Mmm, goodnight."

*

**Saturday, February 26th 2011**

When Gerard woke up, he was lying on a warm chest, surrounded by strong, secure arms, and gentle fingers were combing through his hair. He couldn't help it, still being half asleep and all, that at first he thought for a moment that it was Frank, but when he opened his eyes he realized that Frank would have had about a hundred more tattoos. It felt nice, though, and he couldn't help curling into Brian's chest, nuzzling closer and moving an arm to wrap around his waist.

"Good morning," Brian said softly, and Gerard smiled.

"Good morning." He hadn't slept that well in ages, and he felt for the first time since he found out about Frank, that everything was going to be alright. "Thank you," he whispered, "for staying." Brian just hugged him tighter.

They lay like that for another hour, and Gerard was almost asleep again when Brian shifted under him and said, "We should probably get up. It's almost noon." Gerard was reluctant to get up, which he expressed with a sleepy groan, but he sat up anyway, and looked at Brian who didn't seem to want to get up any more than Gerard did. He leaned back in and kissed Brian, forgetting for a moment that his mouth was dry and that he had morning breath, and that Brian most likely did too. Brian didn't seem to mind, though, accepting his tongue and bringing him closer with the arm still wrapped around Gerard's shoulders.

"Gee?" Brian said when they pulled away to breathe, using the nickname as a question. One of his hands was in Gerard's hair, stroking it softly out of his face as Gerard lowered his head back down to peck Brian's lips.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just... I've never woken up in the morning, cuddling with a really hot guy. I just wanted to do that, I guess." Gerard offered him a small smile, but Brian looked kind of crushed.

"So last night didn't mean anything to you?" Gerard pulled back and sat up for real this time, and Brian pushed himself up too, before shuffling back to lean against the headboard.

"Brian, last night... I was sad. I was beyond sad, I was heartbroken. And kind of drunk." Brian still looked crushed, and Gerard realized that what he was saying sounded a whole lot as if he was making excuses. He tried to change his approach, "It would be a lie to say that it wasn't just because you were there, but it would also be a lie to say that I didn't really want it. Because I did. I know you care about me, Brian, and last night I knew that you wouldn't say no. Last night I was sad, and I wanted to be close to someone, and that someone was you."

Brian's face lit up a little, but he still wasn't smiling. "But?"

"That's all it was. I needed you last night. I needed a friend who could be there for me, and also give me what I was missing. You know that none of the others could have done that, so you have to understand how much it meant that you did." He reached out and placed his hand on top of Brian's. "Last night didn't mean nothing to me, Brian."

"But you don't want this?" Brian asked. "You don't want a relationship with me."

"No, I don't. I can't." Gerard said sadly. "It's not you, though. It's me. It hasn't even been a week since Frank left and I found out what he is. I'm still messed up about that, and it feels like I'm going to be messed up for a really long time."

"Okay," Brian finally said with a soft sigh. "I'll still be here, though. Don't forget that."

"I won't forget. And honestly? I'm counting on it."

*

**Tuesday, March 8th 2011**

More than two weeks after Frank getting exposed as a vampire, there still hadn't been any more murders, and as Gerard and Mikey, and all of their friends, still had a curfew and weren't allowed to go to Bachmeier's, they could only guess and believe that Frank really had left town. Gerard wasn't so sure, though, and still believed there was a chance that he still was in Belleville. He supposed it could be just wishful thinking, but he did have this feeling in his chest, telling him that Frank was still close by.

Whenever he mentioned this to Mikey, he usually got the response, "Gerard, you need to stop doing that and accept that he's gone. There hasn't been a murder since I told him to get the fuck out of here, so obviously he listened and took off."

"But what if there was another vampire, Mikey? What if Frank didn't actually kill any of those people?" Gerard argued, eagerly voicing his suspicions.

"And this other vampire would just randomly take off the night we threw Frank out?" Mikey gave him a look full of skepticism.

"Maybe Frank killed it? Or made it leave. He could be innocent, Mikey."

"If he was innocent, and there was another vampire who was indeed responsible for the murders, why hasn't he come back? Why hasn't he come back here to prove it so he can get you back, Gerard?" That was usually when Gerard wouldn't know what else to say. "It's time to face it Gerard. Frank did kill those people, and he is gone. He is not coming back."

Pete, who had been watching them quietly from his seat at the kitchen table where the argument was taking place, said, "You know, by now he might even have met someone new." Gerard glared at him. "I'm just saying! You know how fast it went with you guys, he had hardly been around for a week before you started dating."

"Pete, I don't think that's really helping," Mikey said, glaring a little too. "But really, Gerard, you need to move on. You can't keep dwelling on this, rethinking it all over and over, considering all the 'what if's. He's gone, Gee, and even if he wasn't, there is no way in hell I'd ever let him near you again."

Gerard tried. He really did.

*

**Friday, March 18th 2011**

Almost four weeks after the last murder, all of their parents decided to let them go out after dark again, and the friends all met up outside Gerard and Mikey's house to walk together to Bachmeier's. It was still pretty cold outside so winter coats were still a must, but Gerard seemed to have misplaced his gloves during the time he had been allowed outside enough to need them.

Everyone was extremely on edge, keeping watch to their sides and behind them as if to make sure they weren't being followed. Gerard had Mikey almost clinging to his right arm, and Brian walking on his left side, and Bob, Ray and Pete walked closely behind them. When Pete stopped after five minutes and said, "Wait, I thought I heard something," Gerard decided that enough was enough.

"Could you guys just give it up? You're the ones who've been saying for a month that he's gone, and I believe you." When no one replied, Gerard turned to Mikey, who simply looked away, avoiding his gaze. "I would really appreciate if you stopped acting all Secret Service around me."

"We're trying to protect you," Pete said.

"From what? There's nothing out there that I need protecting from, and if there was something out there, I highly doubt that a bunch of unarmed teenagers would be able to stop it," Gerard replied, rolling his eyes.

"We're not unarmed," Pete said as if that much was obvious. "I have a crucifix in my pocket. Mikey does too." Mikey seemed to step on Pete's foot, because Pete sort of yelped and jumped a little on one foot, but it was hard to tell in the dark, so Gerard wasn't sure. "But of course, we won't have to use them because there are no vampires in Belleville," Pete said quickly when he had gotten over the—possibly caused by Mikey—pain in his foot.

"So stop acting like there is." With that, Gerard started walking again, and the others had to jog a little to catch up with him.

When they finally reached their destination, Gerard felt a lot more nervous than he let on, but he tried to fight it back. It was unreasonable, so he told himself that, and followed closely by Mikey, he walked in through the door.

The first thing he saw was Frank. The second thing he saw was Frank staring straight back at him. The third thing he saw was when he finally tore his gaze away from Frank and found that their usual table was empty, as if Frank was still keeping it for them.

"Gee, you have to keep moving," Mikey whispered in his ear, giving him a light shove forward. Gerard nodded, although he knew Mikey couldn't see it, and told himself to walk. He almost didn't want to go to their table, feeling like Frank had somehow ruined it, but he couldn't spot any other clear tables. The place was packed, like it hadn't been in a long time because of the murders. Gerard let all of the other guys into the booth before sitting down himself, his back turned to where Frank was. Brian squeezed in next to him a minute later after having gotten their drinks, and Gerard couldn't help but feel cornered with nowhere to go.

"Why is he still here?" he cried out quietly after sipping his beer, and Brian latched on to one of his hands, squeezing it tight. "Why is he here? He was supposed to have left. Why is he here, Mikey?" He turned to his brother, who was sitting just to his left, looking just about as helpless as Gerard felt. "You promised he would be gone." As much as Gerard had loved Frank a month earlier, he had had no desire whatsoever to see Frank tonight, or ever again. All he wanted was to put their great but short-lived romance behind him.

"I don't know, Gee, I'm sorry," Mikey replied in a soft, gentle tone. "I was sure he had left."

Gerard sniffed once, and then just squeezed Brian's hand, lacing their fingers together to have something to hold on to, and that's when he felt it. A burning hot gaze at the back of his head, feeling as if it was going to go straight through him, or at least leave scorch marks on his clothes.

"He's looking at me, isn't he?" he said quietly to Brian, who turned his head to look, before turning back and nodding. He sipped his beer again, and then twice more, just sitting there in silence while the other guys carried on a conversation about the best movies of the nineties around him. Frank's burning gaze never left him, he could feel it, and soon it just became too much or him. He couldn't stand it that Frank was right there, that he had been right there all this time, that he had been _right there_ , but still not come to see Gerard to explain.

"I have to get out of here," he said, pushing against Brian until he almost fell onto the floor and finally stood up, letting Gerard out.

"Gerard, wait," Mikey said as Gerard got up and grabbed his coat, but Gerard shook his head.

"I have to go." He didn't stop to put his coat on, just walked out of there, keeping his head down to avoid Frank's gaze that was still following him. He stopped just outside to put the coat on, and then kept walking hurriedly away from the bar, and away from Frank.

He hadn't gotten far before he heard someone jogging to catch up with him, which reminded him of the time he had fought with Frank about his friends, and Frank had come out after Gerard. He turned around quickly, worried that it was Frank following him this time too, but it was Brian, which he really hadn't expected. He had thought that maybe Mikey would come after him, but not Brian. Sure, they had grown a lot closer over the last few weeks, and the other guys had kind of accepted that Brian was the one Gerard preferred to tell personal things to, but in a situation like this he had thought that the guys he had known longer would want to go first.

He turned and started walking again, but Brian called out, "Gee, wait up," so he stopped and listened to Brian's footsteps until a warm arm wrapped around his waist. He turned again, stepping into Brian's embrace and wrapping his arms around him, nuzzling his face against Brian's neck. "Hey, hey, it's okay." He ran his fingers through Gerard's hair, and Gerard exhaled a shaky breath.

"He's not supposed to still be here, Brian. He's not—" Gerard stopped and pulled back, meeting Brian's blue eyes. "He's ruining everything." Brian reached up a little, and Gerard met him halfway, pressing his lips against Brian's hot mouth and freezing cold lip ring which kind of reminded him of kissing Frank's cold lips.

"Come on, let's go," Brian said after pulling away, fumbling for Gerard's hand.

"Yeah," Gerard replied, linking their fingers.

They weren't anything, him and Brian. A kiss like that didn't mean anything, at least not to Gerard. They had been spending a lot of time together since that night when they almost had sex, and they had gotten a lot closer, to the point where Gerard felt closer to Brian than he did to anyone else. He felt like he could tell Brian all the things he couldn't tell Mikey or any of the other guys, like how he still dreamed about Frank, both nightmares and other dreams. The kisses... The kisses happened every now and then, when they least expected it, or when Gerard was exceptionally sad and Brian didn't know what else to do. The kisses were all innocent and didn't mean anything.

The kisses might have meant something to Brian, because he was still very much into Gerard, but he never pushed to take it any further and, if Gerard ever wanted more than innocent kisses, Brian would ask him why. He had asked Gerard out once, or kind of asked him out. It was more like he had asked Gerard what he would say if Brian actually did ask him out, and Gerard had said that he would have to say no. At least for the moment, because he was still not really over Frank. Brian had accepted that without any further questioning, and Gerard had been so relieved he had almost kissed Brian, but figured it would have been rather tactless.

"You'll stay, won't you?" Gerard asked as he let them in to his room, and Brian pressed a light hand to the small of his back.

"Of course," Brian said, moving his hand away again to close the door.

"Good," Gerard whispered, pressing up against Brian's back. He could feel Brian's body tense, and then relax when Gerard kissed his neck, moving his hands up and down Brian's bare arms. He knew what Brian was thinking, but he wanted to be close, that's all.

"Gerard, stop," Brian said, stepping away from Gerard's wandering hands and turning around.

"Why?" Gerard asked, tugging Brian close again, into a not quite kiss. He could feel Brian's breath on his face, could smell the familiar cigarette smoke even though Brian hadn't smoked since they met up to go to Bachmeier's.

"You can't just do that and think it'll be fine, Gerard. Being with you and knowing that it means nothing to you fucking hurts, and I don't want a repeat of what happened three weeks ago," Brian said, sounding sad. Gerard didn't know what to say. "Besides, us making out is not going to change the fact that Frank is still in town."

"Brian, that's not—"

"It is, Gerard. You want to forget about him, I get that, but this is not how that's going to happen." Brian cupped his cheek gently, tilting his face down until their eyes met. "When you do forget and get over him, I'll still be here." Gerard smiled a little, mostly to suppress the guilt inside. He wasn't sure he would ever want a relationship with Brian, even after he had gotten over Frank, and now it felt like he was leading him on.

"But how do I forget?" he asked in a low whisper, and Brian sighed and hugged him.

"You distract yourself, by hanging out with friends and people who love you, watching movies and playing video games," Brian told him.

"Can I draw?" Gerard asked tentatively. He hadn't drawn as much as he used to over the last few weeks, mostly because whenever he tried, he would end up drawing Frank, or something else that had with vampires or his still present nightmares to do.

"As long as you don't draw him. Or anything that makes you think of him." That was easier said than done. Drawing made Gerard think of Frank, just because of the memories of sitting at Bachmeier's, drawing and watching Frank work.

"I guess I should start drawing colorful ponies and unicorns, then."

Brian laughed. "How about we just watch movies for now?"

"Okay, sounds good."

They settled down on Gerard's bed to watch some zombie movies, Gerard sliding down until he could comfortably lean his head on Brian's shoulder. Brian rested his cheek against Gerard's hair, and Gerard smiled as the zombie on the screen got a bullet in the head and fell over.

Mikey and Pete came back from Bachmeier's an hour later, and decided to join them. "Are you okay?" Mikey asked carefully as he settled down next to Gerard while Pete sat on Brian's other side.

"I'm fine, Mikey," Gerard assured him, but then Mikey turned to Brian, asking, "Is he okay?"

"I think so," Brian replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Mikey sighed exasperatedly, and they sunk into an uncomfortable silence, which lasted until Pete said, "I hate zombie dogs," and everyone turned their heads to look at him. "What? They're creepy. And I like normal dogs. I used to have a dog, but he died, and I don't want to think about him being a zombie."

However random the comment was, it dispersed the tension, and they all just continued to watch the movie. Mikey did not try to bring up what had happened at Bachmeier's again and, for that, Gerard was very grateful.

*

**Friday, March 25th 2011**

"You're going to Bachmeier's tonight, aren't you?" Gerard asked Bob and Ray at lunch. He hadn't been at the bar since the previous Friday, but Bob, Ray and Brian had, and they had informed the rest of the group that Frank had stared at them, mostly at Brian it seemed, which was probably because he was the one who had gone after Gerard when he walked out. Their table had been kept empty for them every time as well, which was really weird. Gerard thought that someone should have complained about the table being reserved every night, and figured that Frank must have compelled everyone who did, forcing them to let it go.

Gerard had been thinking a lot about compelling in general, wondering how it worked, and if Frank had ever done it to him. There were moments that were sort of hazy, and Gerard could definitely remember them having fights, but not how the fights ended. Those parts just weren't in his memories. He wondered if Frank had ever bitten him and then made him forget. He had never found any bite-marks, but maybe vampires could heal them? Or maybe he had been compelled not to see the markings. He figured that someone else would have noticed a couple of bloody holes in his neck, though.

"Yes, we are," Bob replied, pulling Gerard back out of his head. "You wanna come?"

Before Gerard could reply, Ray inflicted, "Are you sure that's a good idea? Last week you seemed really upset that Frank was still there. I don't know about you, but I think it would be better not to make a scene in front of him again."

"Last week he caught me by surprise," Gerard argued. "Now I know he's there, and I've thought about it. I'm not gonna let him control my life by scaring me and keeping me from hanging out with my friends wherever I want to."

"I agree with Gerard," Bob said, and Ray glared at him. "If you let Frank keep you away even for a little while, it's just going to be harder to get back there without feeling weird about it. The sooner you start adjusting, the better, and you being there is probably going to make Frank back off as well. I mean, the thing about keeping our table for us is just fucking creepy."

"Yeah," Gerard agreed, nodding, but Ray scoffed and frowned. "Oh come on, Ray, what do you think is going to happen? I'm not gonna freak out again, and even if I do, what do you think he's gonna do?"

"Nothing," Ray admitted with a sigh. "I just wanna keep you safe."

"I know, and I appreciate it, but believe it or not, I am actually not a baby." Bob snorted, and Gerard sent him a glare. "Anyway, I have decided that I am going out tonight, and if Mikey or anyone else tries to stop me, I need you two to back me up, okay?"

"Sure," Bob said with a shrug, whereas Ray made pained expression and sighed, "Fine."

*

Bachmeier's was just as full this Friday as it had been the previous week, but their table was empty, just like it had been every night since Frank started working there. Gerard felt Frank's eyes on him the moment he stepped inside, but he ignored it, kept his head down and sat down at the table, facing Frank this time.

"Gee, are you sure you want to sit there?" Mikey asked quietly when Gerard sat down, but he was ignored as Gerard sought out Brian who was getting their drinks from Lindsey, the female bartender. "Gerard," Mikey tried again, "no one is going to think less of you for sitting with your back to him. It's okay not to want to look at him."

"Mikey, I need to do this to move on and, if I don't do it tonight, I don't know if I'll ever be able to." That's when Brian came over, looking just as surprised as Mikey had when he realized where Gerard was sitting. Before he could say the exact same thing as Mikey just said, Gerard said, "Don't bother trying to get me to move. I'm gonna sit here and, if Frank wants a staring contest, he's gonna fucking get one." Gerard reached for a beer and took a long swig before finally letting his eyes wander to Frank, who looked at him for about a second before turning away.

Wait, what? "What?" he said out loud, attracting the attention of all of his friends.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Mikey said, and Gerard turned to look at him, and yeah, that was Frank's heavy gaze on his again. When Gerard turned his head back to look at the spot he knew Frank was, he had turned his face away again. "Gerard?" Mikey asked impatiently, but Gerard turned to Brian.

"He's looking at me right now, isn't he?" Brian turned his face and nodded, but when Gerard turned his and followed the line of Brian's eyes, Frank was looking down at whatever he was doing with his hands. "Whenever I look at him, he looks away," Gerard said, feeling puzzled. He didn't understand why.

"That's odd," Pete said and, although he didn't say much, Gerard was pretty sure he spoke for all of them. Frank's behavior was odd.

Gerard watched Frank almost all night. Most of the time, Frank would keep his gaze elsewhere, but sometimes he'd look up and meet Gerard's eyes. They'd look at each other for a long moment, then Gerard would blush and turned away, and he would feel Frank's gaze on him for a while. Then he'd look up and their eyes would meet again, until Frank turned away.

They left a few hours later, and Gerard was really happy to get out of there. "You want me to come home with you?" Brian asked quietly when they stepped outside, making sure no one else heard the way he said it.

"Yeah," Gerard said and nodded, before turning to Mikey who was going to Pete's, but had offered to walk home with Gerard first. "Mikey, you go ahead and go with Pete, I'll be fine. Brian's headed the same way, so I won't be alone."

"Okay, good," Mikey nodded, and the group split up.

Gerard and Brian walked slowly, because they weren't in a hurry, and it wasn't really cold outside. Their hands bumped against one another a few times, but neither of them linked their fingers. It was getting weird, this thing they were doing, hanging out more than Gerard did with any other friend, and touching a whole lot more than Gerard did with any other friend too. They hadn't kissed since last week, though, after Gerard had run out of Bachmeier's.

"Tonight was weird," Brian said after a few minutes, breaking the heavy silence around them.

"Yeah," Gerard said, not really having anything to add. Then, when he thought about it all, he said, "Everything about this is weird. Frank still being here is weird. I really want to know how he can still be here when the murders have stopped. I can't stop believing that if he had been innocent all along, he would have told me so instead of leaving me."

"Yeah," Brian agreed. "Maybe he started feeding on animals? Or he robbed a blood bank."

Gerard giggled a little, and said, "You know, I can't stop thinking that maybe he is a good vampire. Maybe he's like Angel, and got his soul back. Or he's like Spike, in the later seasons, and is kind of semi-good even if he doesn't have a soul." Gerard turned his face to look at Brian who seemed amused. "I mean, just because he's a vampire doesn't mean he's fucking Dracula or whatever."

"It kind of looks like it, though, doesn't it?" Brian said with a teasing look in his eyes. "I mean, he did seduce a virgin, didn't he?" Gerard laughed.

"Sure, but you have to think bigger than that. Where are his boxes of dirt? Where's the bug-eating lunatic? Why hasn't he turned into a bat and flapped against my window?" Gerard turned to Brian again, looking smug and knowing that he had won the Dracula debate, but Brian ruined it by looking utterly confused. Gerard sighed. "You haven't read the book, have you?"

"No," Brian admitted. "I just know the basics." Gerard laughed and hooked his arm around Brian's as they kept walking. It was nice, and it seemed like that kind of contact was okay.

"You should read the book," Gerard told him. "It's amazing. I really like the two female characters, Mina and Lucy, because they're both really important, although the male characters try to steal the spotlight. You know the movie where Gary Oldman has the lead role as Dracula?" Brian nodded, and Gerard kept talking, "It's a pretty good movie, but it totally butchered the female characters and turned them into sex maniacs. And their tits were on display all the fucking time."

"Really? I thought it took place in like, the seventeenth century," Brian said, and Gerard laughed again.

"The nineteenth century, actually, but it's the same thing either way. Women were not supposed to behave that way back then." They reached Gerard's house, and he let them in through the basement entrance.

Brian excused himself to the bathroom, and Gerard sat down on his bed, waiting for him to get back, before he spotted his sketchpad on his desk and got up and grabbed it. He started looking through it, the first fourth not being really interesting, but then he reached the pages where he had started drawing vampires because of the murders. Brian came in and sat down next to him, not saying a word, just as Gerard found a drawing he had made of the marks on an anonymous victim's neck. They didn't look like bite-marks in the drawing, but that's because Gerard hadn't known they were bite-marks.

"You know, in Dracula," Gerard started, turning to look at Brian, who met his gaze, "When Mina first saw the bite-marks on Lucy's throat, she thought she had just pricked her skin with a safety pin by accident. She didn't think it was anything bad, that it was anything serious or dangerous, that Lucy could have lost a large amount of blood through those tiny little holes."

He looked back down at the sketchpad and started turning pages, looking for a specific drawing that he had made a few days after he found out what Frank was. "I have dreamed about it, you know? Him biting me. Usually it's the neck, or the wrist, or my chest, but sometimes he's all over me, biting me everywhere, dragging his razor sharp teeth over my skin, tearing my flesh apart."

"Oh my God," Brian almost shouted when Gerard finally found the right page. It was a drawing of Gerard himself, dead and covered in blood, his flesh torn to shreds, just like he remembered from his dreams. Crouching next to him was Frank, though the only way to recognize him was by looking at his tattoos. His face was all twisted up and bloody, the direct opposite of Gerard's face, which was relaxed and calm, pale and spotless, not stained with his own blood.

"Every time I dream that he's bitten me, I wake up and look all over my body to try and find marks, and to try and remember if I've hurt myself on anything like a needle. He could have covered it up like that, you know? By compelling me and making me think I pricked my skin with a safety pin."

"You haven't found anything, have you?" Brian grasped one of Gerard's hands, squeezing it tight. Gerard closed the sketchpad and dropped it to the floor, turning to Brian and pressing closer, nuzzling his head in the crook of his neck.

"No," he replied. "And that's what scares me the most." Brian let go of his hand and wrapped the arm around Gerard's shoulders instead. "If he had been drinking from me, at least I would have known what he wanted, but now I have no idea. Maybe he was planning to kill me in the future, or maybe he just wanted to date me for a while, or maybe he wanted to turn me, and make me his companion or whatever." Gerard shuddered, and Brian instantly rubbed his shoulder soothingly. "He told me several times that he was going to tell me his secret when I was ready. What do you think he meant by that?"

"I don't know," Brian replied honestly. "Maybe it was just something he said to make you stop asking about it."

"Yeah, I guess." Gerard sighed and lay down, pushing Brian down with him. He rolled onto his side, one hand on Brian's chest as he leaned in, seeking out Brian's blue eyes. He felt Brian's fingers in his hair, a light pressure at the back of his neck, and he closed the gap between them, with a little more force than necessary, causing their teeth to clash, and their noses to bump.

Brian's other hand fisted in the front of Gerard's t-shirt, and he climbed all the way on top of him, pressing Brian into the mattress. Brian sucked in Gerard's bottom lip, nipping at it with his teeth, and Gerard moaned, grinding his hips down against Brian's.

That seemed to kind of wake Brian up, though, because he pushed Gerard away, panting, and asked, "What are you doing?"

Gerard didn't know what to say. He didn't know what he was doing, only that he really wanted to be close to Brian, because he was fucking desperate to get over Frank. After tonight, after sitting and just watching Frank like he did, not being able to stop, he was getting scared that he might never be able to get over Frank. He didn't want to hurt Brian, didn't want to use him, but it felt like the only way to forget Frank was to be with someone else, and Brian was always there.

"I'm sick of dreaming about him," Gerard finally said. "I just want to forget about him, and I wanna be with you, but I can't because I can't stop thinking about him." Brian's eyes lit up, and Gerard already regretted saying that he wanted to be with Brian like that. He still wasn't sure how he felt about Brian, or how he would feel once he could forget about Frank and move on. "Fuck, I'm sorry," he murmured, avoiding Brian's eyes and rolling off of him to sit back up. "Maybe you should just go."

He stood up and picked his sketchpad off the floor, turning his back to Brian as he started to look through it again. He browsed through all of the horrible drawings of Frank and dead bodies, of himself, dead, because he needed to remind himself of what Frank was.

"Gerard?" Brian asked carefully, but Gerard kept his eyes locked on the devilish eyes on the paper in front of him.

"I still love him, Brian." He turned another page, and there he was, the Frank that Gerard had first met and turned into a stammering, blushing fool for. It was the Frank Gerard had fallen in love with, despite the never-ending arguments and secrets. "I love him, and I don't think I'll ever be able to stop." Brian grabbed the sketchpad from Gerard's hands and looked down at the drawing Gerard had finished just the day before. Gerard followed the line of his eyes as he looked at Frank's beautiful smile, the spark in his eyes, the strange patterns of his tattoos.

"You're right," Brian said, looking up at Gerard. "I should go." Gerard couldn't tell if Brian looked more hurt, or more disgusted, he just knew that he had never meant for it to be like this.

"Brian," he tried, but Brian just shook his head, silencing him.

"You love him?" he said, voice full of disbelief. "You _love_ him?"

"Brian, I—" Gerard tried again.

"How could you lead me on like that when you still feel that way about him?"

"I haven't been leading you on. You knew I wasn't ready for anything new," Gerard argued.

"I thought you just needed time. I thought we were gonna have something, that you just needed another few weeks, or a month. I didn't know you still loved that asshole!" Brian was red in the face and shouting, and all Gerard wanted to do was to run and lock himself in the bathroom and curl into a ball and hide.

"All this time, Gee," Brian started, but then stopped and tried a new approach. "This last month, these last few weeks, I've been there for you whenever you've needed me, I've been there for you, day and fucking night, and you're telling me now that all the kissing, and the touching, and the cuddling, that meant nothing to you?"

"Of course not! Of course not, Brian. Of course it didn't mean nothing. You being here has meant everything, but I just don't feel that way about you, and I can't make myself fall in love with you, no matter how much I care about you."

Brian just looked at him for a long moment, eyes full of doubt. "You said you wanna be with me. Did you mean that?"

Gerard considered it for a moment. He hadn't even known what he meant when he said it, so explaining it now wasn't going to be easy. "I guess I meant that I'd rather be in love with you than him. I'd rather be with one of the good guys than the bad guy." Brian nodded, seemingly understanding what Gerard was trying to say. "But I'm in love with him, and I miss him, and I wouldn't say no if he wanted me back."

Brian looked sad at that, and Gerard understood why when he said, "What about everything you said earlier? What about the nightmares? What about his motives? If you let him back into your life, he could kill you in five seconds flat."

"That's the chance I'd have to take, I guess."

"Are you going to?"

"I don't know," Gerard said honestly. He hadn't thought it through properly yet. The idea had pretty much just struck him, and so far the only thing he knew was that each and every one of his friends would try and stop him if he tried to get back together with Frank.

"I guess we shouldn't hang out as much," Brian said after a long moment of silence. Gerard wanted to protest. He didn't want to stop being friends with Brian, he liked having him around, and especially now after having told Brian about how he felt about Frank, he didn't want Brian to go out and talk to Bob and Ray or, even worse, Mikey and Pete about it. He could understand where Brian was coming from, though, having had these high expectations on his and Gerard's relationship, only to get shot down.

"If that's what you want," he said, and Brian nodded. "Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"About us?" Brian asked, and Gerard shook his head.

"About Frank. I don't want them to know, especially not Mikey. He wouldn't understand."

"Fine." With that, Brian left and, for the first time in a month, Gerard felt lonely.

*

**Wednesday, March 30th 2011**

The following week felt like one of the longest weeks in Gerard's life. Brian would hardly talk to him, except for when he had to do it to keep up appearances in front of the other guys. Gerard was allowed to go out on school nights again after he convinced his mom that his grades were much better, and that he would stay in and study when he had to, so they went to Bachmeier's almost every night.

Gerard could barely take his eyes off of Frank, and he kept wondering what he was thinking, wondering whether Frank was wondering what Gerard was thinking. He wondered if Frank ever thought about getting back together. Gerard wondered if Frank missed him like he missed Frank, and he wondered how Frank was doing, if he was all alone now, why he had chosen to stay in Belleville if it meant that he'd be alone.

This of course led to him wondering how Frank fed, considering there hadn't been a murder in over one month. He wasn't the only one wondering that, though, having all of his friends to discuss it with. Gerard still thought that he might be feeding from animals, although the image of Frank crawling around in the sewers, eating rats, was not one he liked to think about. Mikey and Pete were more into the idea of Frank stealing blood from a hospital, but if he had, it hadn't made the news.

The answer was really obvious, and once they found out about it, they all felt stupid and like they should have figured it out earlier. The answer came in the form of a cheerleader.

Gerard was just on his way back to his locker with Bob and Ray after math, when someone suddenly pounced on him, and he stumbled sideways into Bob. "What the fuck, Wentz, some people are trying to walk here," Bob grumbled, and Gerard nodded his agreement and shoved Pete off of him.

"I know, I know, whatever," Pete waved them off, and squeezed himself in between them so that he was walking in front of them, backwards, somehow avoiding everyone else in the hallway. That was when Gerard realized that Mikey was there, an excited look on his face that Gerard hadn't seen since before they proved that Frank was a vampire.

"What's up?" he asked his little brother, just as Pete asked them all, "Have you seen Victoria Asher today?"

"The cheerleader?" Ray asked at the same time as Bob said, "No, but I'm assuming she's off somewhere, spreading her legs for Saporta."

"I thought your theory was that Saporta was doing Beckett?" Gerard asked, confused.

"You seriously think that bastard is a monogamist?" Bob replied, one eyebrow raised, and no, Gerard did not think that.

"Hello? That is so not the point here," Pete said, raising his voice and stopping in the middle of the hallway, making the rest of them stop as well. "Have you _seen_ her _today?"_ he asked again, and they all said, "No," and shrugged.

"She was attacked by a dog," Mikey said easily, and Pete glared at him as if Mikey had robbed him of this really awesome opportunity to let them all know that Victoria Asher had been attacked by a dog.

"Who cares?" Bob asked, and Gerard agreed. The less he heard about whoever called themselves a friend of Gabe Saporta's, the better.

"We do!" Pete said, all but jumping up and down in excitement. "She's got a band aid on her neck," he said, lowering his voice and leaning in closer to them.

"So it was a big dog?" Gerard asked, imagining a dog latching on to someone's throat.

"Nah, I think she's pretty short," Ray replied, and Gerard nodded, but then Bob said, "She only looks short next to the basketball team. She's not really that short."

"Can you guys just please, pay attention?" Pete nearly pleaded, and Mikey patted his shoulder. Gerard tried to pay attention, and found that it got a lot easier when Pete finally got to the point. "She can't remember anything about the attack. She can't say what kind of dog it was, if it was provoked, if there was an owner nearby, or even where she was attacked. Whenever she's asked about it, all she says is 'A dog bit me! It was really big. I was so scared.'"

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Gerard felt his eyes widen as Pete looked at him and nodded.

"We think it was Frank."

"He's biting people without killing them now?" Ray asked, and both Pete and Mikey nodded. "Well, that sounds... nice."

"You know, I think I read something in the newspaper about an increase in animal attacks," Bob said.

"So, now, instead of looking for a serial killer, the police will be looking for a big, stray, dangerous dog," Pete said, and Gerard realized a huge flaw in their assumptions.

"Vampire bites don't look like dog bites. At least not the ones on the murder victims. The cops, or doctors, must realize that it's the same person, or thing, or whatever." They all looked puzzled for a moment, and then Gerard added, "Unless he messed it up so that it's not just two perfect holes. If he uses all of his teeth, no one will recognize it."

They started walking again because class was about to start, and they needed to get their books. Pete and Mikey had already skipped off to their respective classes, and Gerard, Bob and Ray were about to go their own classes as well, when Gerard felt the need to say, "This really explains a lot."

"Yeah, it does."

*

Later that night, at Bachmeier's, Gerard found it harder than ever to tear his eyes away from Frank. Now that they knew how he was feeding again, now that Gerard knew that Frank wasn't living on dirty, nasty rats, Gerard was developing this urge to talk to him.

He knew now that Frank wasn't killing people, that he wasn't—well he was hurting them, but not much, and they couldn't remember him hurting them, so it didn't really matter.

Frank had stayed in Belleville. He had stopped murdering people so that he could stay there, in that town, where Gerard was, and he couldn't help but hope and believe that it was because Frank still wanted him. Of course, it all depended on which way you looked at it, because it would have made sense for Frank to leave, so that he wouldn't have had to see Gerard so often, because if he really loved Gerard like Gerard loved him, he would have been hurting. This reasoning lead Gerard to believe that Frank had stayed because he didn't care whether Gerard was with him or not. Then he thought about how Frank had been with him, and decided that Frank had obviously stayed because he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Gerard behind.

Gerard didn't just want to talk to Frank. He needed to. Even if it wouldn't lead to them getting back together, Gerard had so many unanswered questions he wanted to ask Frank, and he knew he wouldn't be able to move on with his life until he got some answers.

He needed to figure out how to go about it, though, because he couldn't let any of the guys know. They would stop him, and Mikey would definitely forbid him to go and then stalk him for two months, or they'd insist on being there when Gerard talked to Frank, and that was not happening. Some of the questions he had were personal and private, and Gerard did not want Bob or Ray anywhere near those questions. What made matters even worse was that Gerard didn't know how to contact Frank, or where to find him when he wasn't at Bachmeier's, so he had to try and talk to Frank some time when Gerard's friends weren't there. Since Gerard and his friends were pretty much always there now that the curfew had been lifted and Gerard didn't have a ton of extra homework to do every night, Gerard had a really big problem. Also, even when they weren't at Bachmeier's, Mikey would make him watch movies with him and Pete, not wanting him to feel excluded, or whatever.

He just had to keep his eyes and ears open for whatever opportunities he could find, though, and he was definitely going to do his best.

*

**Friday, April 8th 2011**

The opportunity presented itself sooner than Gerard had expected, and he found himself worried that it might be too easy. He even wondered if the guys might know what he was up to, and had set up a trap for him, but when he thought about it he knew it wasn't plausible.

Bob and Brian were driving to Chicago to visit some friends there and, because of the long drive, they left early Thursday afternoon. Gerard even watched them take off from the school parking lot, so he knew they were gone. Ray wasn't going as far as to Chicago, but his older brother Louie was taking him to New York to go see some bands play or something. Gerard knew Ray, and he knew that Ray would not lie about something like that. Ray adored his brother, and they both adored music with great guitars, so Gerard was pretty sure they really were going to a show.

The only thing that was remotely suspicious was what Mikey and Pete were doing, which was apparently going on a double date with some girls from Mikey's English class. Mikey had had a crush on this girl Alicia for ages, but he was too much of a coward to ask her out, so Pete had asked her friend Ashlee out and suggested that they all went out together. Gerard was having some trouble seeing all this working out so smoothly for them, so believing that they weren't setting up a trap for him was hard to believe.

His disbeliefs were shattered when Mikey felt bad for leaving Gerard all alone for the night, and suggested that he asked Pete and the girls if it was okay if Gerard came out with them. Gerard almost burst out laughing, because he could only imagine a few things worse than being the fifth wheel on his little brother's date.

"I'll be fine, Mikey," he reassured him, and then told him about all the gory movies he was going to watch.

He didn't watch any movies, though. He just hung around in his room, not really doing anything, until nine pm, when he left to go to Bachmeier's. He couldn't help but feel nervous and scared, worried that Frank wouldn't talk to him, or that he wasn't even working tonight, or that Frank would, after all, try to hurt him. He decided to wear his grandmother's cross, just in case, and he brought his sketchpad so that he could hang around and wait for Frank's shift to end without getting bored out of his mind.

The place was crowded and loud when Gerard walked in, but his table was empty as always. No one even approached it, it was as if it was invisible, or as if there was a big "Reserved" sign on top of it, only it couldn't be seen. Gerard couldn't understand why nobody questioned it, how every single person in there just knew that that table wasn't available.

It took Gerard a moment to spot Frank, because he had his back turned to the room as he was mixing some drinks. Their eyes met the moment he turned around, though, and then Frank turned away again as Gerard approached him. He ordered a beer form Lindsey, handing over a crumpled $10 bill, and instead of going to the table he stayed at the counter and waited for Frank to come over and talk to him.

"What are you doing here?" Frank said when he finally came over, apparently accepting that Gerard wasn't just going to turn and walk away. "How come you're here all alone?" Frank looked completely indifferent as he talked, though he mostly kept his face down, and Gerard was starting to doubt that Frank had stayed in Belleville for him.

"I wanted to talk to you," Gerard said softly, but Frank scoffed, "There's nothing to talk about."

"There is," Gerard said stubbornly, but Frank didn't reply or even look at him. "Okay, maybe it's not so much that I want to talk to you." He lowered his voice and practically hissed. "I need to talk to you." Frank looked up at that, a little surprised. "I want some answers. I need you to give me some answers. I think I deserve that much."

"Fine," Frank said, sighing heavily as if he really didn't want to. "I'm off at eleven. Stick around, then we can talk."

"Good." Gerard nodded. "That's all I'm asking," he said, but they both knew that wasn't really true.

It was already ten pm, so Gerard only had to wait an hour. He retreated to his table and pulled out his sketchpad and started drawing whatever came to mind. He glanced up every now and then, watching Frank and meeting his eyes, but he almost forgot about his beer in the process. It was only half empty when Frank had finished his shift and came over to Gerard's table, and he had to leave it because Frank was definitely not intending to stay there.

Frank started walking as soon as they got outside, and Gerard almost had to run to keep up. "Where are we going?" he asked, a little breathless, but Frank didn't respond as he was busy lighting up a cigarette. Gerard realized where they were headed soon enough, though. He had walked this way with Frank before, when they were on their first date, going to that all night diner with the amazing coffee.

Gerard got himself a huge cup of coffee and a chocolate muffin whereas Frank just got coffee. Gerard offered to pay for it, but Frank waved him off and paid for both his and Gerard's coffee instead. Gerard rolled his eyes and found a table in a corner as far away from the register as possible, not wanting to be overheard by the waitress. He thought it might have been the same waitress as the first time they were there, but she didn't look as bitchy, so he wasn't sure.

Once they were sitting down, Gerard wasn't sure what to say, or how to start the conversation, and Frank was absolutely no help at all, sitting in silence and staring at the table. "If you're gonna talk, then talk," Frank said unexpectedly after twenty minutes of silence and stolen glances, and Gerard almost jumped at the suddenness of it. "I don't have all night."

Gerard couldn't stop himself before he was saying, "Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. You must have places to be, people to eat." Frank flashed him a dark look, but Gerard, for some reason, wasn't scared.

"Do you want to pick a fight?" Frank asked, "Or do you want to talk?" He put his coffee down on the table and leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. "I can leave right now, Gee, and never come back, and you'll never have your answers. Is that what you want?"

"No," Gerard replied more easily than he had expected. It was as if Frank's use of Gerard's nickname had unlocked something inside him and made it easier to speak. "I wanna know why you didn't come back. I waited for you. I waited for a fucking week, but you never came back."

"I didn't come back because I was told I wasn't welcome."

"But that was Mikey! _I_ wanted you to come back. And then when...when the murders stopped, I thought you were gone," Gerard said softly, looking down at his hands in his lap.

"I wasn't gone," Frank replied, stating the obvious. "I wanted to talk to you, too, Gee, but when you came back to the bar the first time and I saw you with him—" Frank stopped, shifted his legs and leaned forward again, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. "You had moved on, and all of your friends were already wary of me, so trying to talk to you just seemed foolish."

"But I haven't moved on. Brian and I—" Gerard hesitated, and said, "We're just friends, Frank. That's all it is, all it ever was."

"You're a lousy liar, Gee." Frank's eyes met Gerard's, and they were dark and bitter. "I followed you outside that first night, Gee, because I wanted to talk to you, but then I heard him coming after you, so I hid in the shadows. I saw you kiss him."

"The only reason I did that was because I missed you so much, and after having seen you were still in town, I was a mess. I missed you so fucking much, Frank, and being with Brian took the edge off, if only for a little while."

"That doesn't make it okay," Frank said coldly, and Gerard shuddered.

"So why did you stay? You could have left after you saw me and Brian together, but you chose to stay, and you—" Gerard stopped suddenly but Frank pushed, "I what, Gerard?"

"You stopped killing people," Gerard whispered, looking down at his half empty coffee mug. "Why?" When Frank didn't respond immediately, Gerard asked, "Did you want to be better? Did you want—"

"I didn't do it for you," Frank said, and it came out sounding awfully bald. "I did it because you and your friends knew, and although I doubt that any of you can do me any real harm, I didn't want to be exposed."

"But why didn't you just leave? Why did you choose to stay here? You've only been here for a little while, there's nothing keeping you here." Frank just looked at him, and Gerard realized his mistake. "What is it? What's keeping you here?"

"I couldn't leave you. I couldn't just forget and leave you behind, even after I had seen you kiss him, after I had heard you say that I was ruining everything. I needed to make sure you were okay."

"Well, then you've failed. I'm not okay, Frank. I'm far from it," Gerard said, feeling genuinely hurt, and it seemed to show as Frank said, "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Did you, though?" Gerard asked. "Did you ever—"

"No," was Frank's immediate answer. "I never bit you. I'd never hurt you, Gee. I couldn't do that to you."

"But you lied to me. And you hurt other people. You killed people, Frank." Gerard clasped a hand over his mouth, not really believing that he just said that out loud, to Frank's face.

"It's in my nature, Gerard. It's in my instincts to kill, because when I do, I don't have to feed as often, and I don't have to hurt as many people." Frank must have realized how awful that sounded, and quickly added, "I know it's not okay, and I know you can't understand what the hunger is like, but human blood is what I feed on, and drinking it is how I live."

Frank sounded sad and sincere and, when he gently grasped Gerard's hand, Gerard had to look at him. As soon as he did, he got that feeling of falling into Frank's dark eyes, and he realized what was happening.

"Stop," he said, jerking back, pulling his hand out of Frank's. "How many times have you done that? Controlled my mind?" Frank actually looked ashamed, which was such a strange look on him as he was usually cool and composed.

"I only did it so that you wouldn't find out what I was until you were ready." He reached for Gerard's hand again, and Gerard let him. "I was just buying time. I was always going to tell you, Gee, but I needed to know that you felt strongly enough for me so that I didn't have to force you to be okay about it." Gerard wanted to ask why Frank did it just now, but Frank beat him to it, "I just wanted you to drop it, and to calm down. That's mostly what I've been doing."

"But, if it was to keep your secret, why didn't you do it to Mikey and Pete? I'm not saying it's okay to do it, especially not to my brother, but it would have given you more time."

"Because I couldn't have gotten close enough, and they were never on their own. And, you need a certain amount of trust for it to work well, and since they were suspicious of me from day one, there's no chance it would have worked," Frank explained, and Gerard nodded, because it did actually make sense. "You see, you can't just plant completely new ideas into someone's head. It's not as simple as that. You can only work with what's there, and either suppress or enhance it. Like, whenever we'd have a fight, you wanted to believe what I was saying, so I just suppressed all the doubts."

All the talk about mind control and how it worked reminded Gerard of something that he had considered to be mind control, but wasn't completely sure if it could really work. It was the one thing that really made absolutely no sense at all, and that Gerard still wanted to believe was real.

"Frank, is your heart beating?" The question came kind of out of nowhere, and Frank looked surprised, but then he gave a small smile as if he had been expecting it.

"No, it's not," he said softly, and Gerard released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "It was the trickiest thing to make you believe, and it took a long time to do it." Gerard nodded, urging him to continue. "Because you didn't have any memories of feeling my heart beating, but only of touching me and not feeling it, I had to manipulate you into doubting your memories."

"How does that work? You just said you couldn't plant ideas, only work with what's already there."

"Because we talked about it. You got really upset, so I had to talk to you normally at first, trying to convince you that I did have a pulse by tricking you so that you were actually feeling your own pulse in your thumb." Gerard nodded, remembering CPR classes in gym where they had to learn to feel other people's pulse and were told not to use their thumb as they might feel their own pulse instead. "After that, I had to convince you and manipulate your memories so that you would always think that you could feel my pulse. If you touched my chest, wrist or throat, you would feel it there."

"Will I still feel it now that I know it's not real?" Gerard asked curiously.

"Only one way to find out," Frank replied cheekily and tugged on Gerard's hand, which Gerard wasn't even sure he was still holding. He tried Frank's wrist first, using his index and middle finger, but he couldn't feel anything.

"Can I try your throat?" he asked, already leaning closer. Frank just shrugged as Gerard's fingers slid over the smooth skin, still not feeling a pulse. Lastly, he slid his hand down over Frank's chest, just like he had done the last night they were together, and he could remember how it had felt, how it was supposed to feel, but Frank's heart definitely wasn't beating.

"That's so weird. I can remember what it felt like, but now it's not there," he said, still leaning in close and looking at Frank. They hadn't been that close since everything happened, but Gerard had secretly wanted it, and he wanted it _now_. He wanted to kiss Frank, and his eyes flicked down to his perfect red lips, but when he looked up again, Frank was looking away, and Gerard pulled back and sat properly on his chair.

They were silent for a few minutes, until Frank said, "Gerard," really suddenly before going quiet again, as if he hadn't meant to say it. Gerard didn't say anything, but looked at Frank, staring him down until he continued. "Gee, I care about you. And I miss you, a lot."

Gerard could feel his heart beating faster. "What—" he started, then, "Does this mean that—" He took a deep breath before saying, "Do you want to—" He still couldn't finish the sentence; he was too overwhelmed.

"It doesn't matter what I want, Gerard. It's not about what I want. It's all up to you." Frank looked so serious Gerard didn't know what to say. "I know you have no reason to trust me, or to want to be with me anymore, but if you want to, I'll make it up to you."

Still not sure how to respond to Frank's proposal, Gerard looked around and noticed a watch on the wall. It was over one in the morning, and he thought for one second that Mikey might have gotten home and found that Gerard wasn't there, but then he remembered that Mikey would be staying at Pete's house after their date. Still, he said, "It's really late. I should go."

"Oh, yeah," Frank said, possibly a little disappointed, and they both stood up and walked outside. Gerard wasn't really ready say goodbye, though.

"Walk me home?" Gerard asked, looking hopefully at Frank, who shrugged.

"Sure."

They started walking slowly, and Gerard found himself disappointed that Frank had his hand stuck in his pockets. Gerard wanted to hold his hand; he wanted things to be normal, to be like they used to be. He remembered when Frank walked him home after their first date, and he wanted to feel like he did that night.

He curled his fingers around Frank's elbow and tugged a little, before letting his fingers slide down his forearm to his wrist. He tugged gently again, before sliding his hand over Frank's, linking their fingers as he pulled Frank's hand out of the pocket. Frank didn't say anything, but Gerard thought he saw a small smile playing on his lips.

"Goodnight, Gee," Frank said when they reached Gerard's house, dropping his hand and turning to walk away.

"Frank, wait," Gerard said, starting to turn and go after him, and Frank stopped, slowly turning to face Gerard again. "Wait," he said again, moving closer to Frank, lifting a hand to his face, but Frank backed away.

"Don't," he said, but Gerard stepped closer again anyway. "Gee, stop," Frank said, backing away again, and Gerard actually laughed because this was getting ridiculous. Half an hour earlier, Frank had told him that if Gerard wanted to, they could get back together, and now Frank was pretty much running away from him.

"Why?" he asked, stepping closer again, but Frank was still backing away.

"Gee, you can't stand so close to me," Frank said, and now Gerard was just confused. It must have showed, because Frank added, "Because of what you're wearing. It hurts."

Gerard just stared at him for a moment, considering what Frank had just said. Gerard wasn't wearing anything weird. He was wearing a black jacket with a hoodie underneath, and jeans. Then he remembered the cross around his neck, and he clasped a hand over it. He had completely forgotten about it.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry, Frank," he murmured, and reached up behind himself to take it off. "I forgot it was there."

"Gee, don't take it off." Frank sounded regretful.

"Don't be stupid, Frank. I don't need this, not when I'm with you." He carefully slipped it into his back pocket, as to keep it as far away from Frank as possible. He knew it was still close enough to hurt him, though, but at least it wasn't around Gerard's neck.

"You shouldn't trust me, Gee," Frank whispered sadly as Gerard stepped in close again, lifting his hands to Frank's cheeks.

"I know, but I want to." Gerard leaned in and closed the gap between their lips. It was a lot like the first time they kissed, with how he half expected Frank to pull away and was surprised when Frank instead moved forward into the kiss. Gerard dropped one of his hands to Frank's shoulder, and he could feel one of Frank's hands at the back of his neck.

Frank's mouth was cold and wet and tasted like coffee, and Gerard never wanted the kiss to end. The way he moved his tongue, the way he sucked gently on Gerard's bottom lip, the way he tipped Gerard's head down to meet his at a perfect angle, they were all things that Gerard had missed without really realizing it.

Gerard pulled away and leaned his forehead against Frank's, panting a little and grinning, eyes still closed. "I've missed you so much."

Frank didn't say anything, but Gerard felt it when he moved away, heard his sneakers scrape against the asphalt. When he opened his eyes, Frank was gone.

He knew it wasn't forever, though. He knew that Frank hadn't left. Not after tonight.

It was weird, Gerard thought, because everything had changed. Just sitting there in that diner, talking for a few hours, had changed Gerard's entire viewpoint of Frank again, and to him it didn't matter what Frank was or what he had done. He loved Frank, and he wanted to be with him and, as long as Frank didn't kill any more people, Gerard decided as he unlocked the basement door and stepped inside, they were going to be together.

*

**Wednesday, November 16th, 2016**

When Mikey wakes up, Brian is sitting up in his bed on the other side of the room, looking as if he is thinking hard about something. He looks up when Mikey sits up, and nods his "Good Morning," and looks down again when Mikey gets up and starts getting dressed in yesterday's clothes.

"Hey, are you okay?" Mikey asks when he has finished buttoning up his pants. He remembers how shaken up Brian had been after the run-in with the two vampires last night, and he knows that it's better to talk about stuff like that than to keep it in your head, going over it again and again until it drives you mad.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," Brian nods, not looking up. "I'm just thinking, you know?"

"Yeah," Mikey says, and Brian looks at him. "What are you thinking about?" He walks over to Brian's bed and sits down on the edge, and Brian sighs.

"Gerard." Mikey nods, because he had kind of expected that. It was still weird to him, though, that Brian had been in love with Gerard. He knew that they had gotten closer after what happened with Frank, after they outed him, but Brian had said that he had feelings for Gerard before that.

"I'm sorry," he says, and Brian looks at him weirdly. "You lost him too," he explains.

"We almost had a relationship," Brian says, and Mikey waits for him to continue. "You know the little party we had the weekend after you outed Frank?" Mikey nods. "I found him crying in the bathroom, and then we kissed and went down to his room, and we almost had sex. He started crying again, though, because he was thinking about Frank."

"But you started hanging out all the time. He spent more time with you than he did with anyone else."

"We kissed every now and then, but he kept saying that he wasn't ready for anything new like that, so I thought I just had to wait. I thought he wanted me too, but then we realized that Frank was still in Jersey, and he told me he still loved Frank."

"You knew?" Mikey asks, surprised and a little angry.

"I didn't know they got back together. I just knew that he wanted to," Brian confesses, a look of shame on his face. "Don't think I haven't beaten myself up about it time and time again already, Mikey. I've been blaming myself for his death ever since you told me he was gone. Not only because I didn't tell anyone he still loved that monster, but because I didn't do anything about my feelings sooner. If I had told him how I felt before he met Frank, we might have been together and he would never have gotten involved with him."

"Is that why you came with us to Chicago? Because you blame yourself and want to make it better?" Mikey asks softly, and Brian nods. "It wasn't your fault, though. You didn't know that a vampire would arrive in town and fucking seduce him. And even if you had told us about Gerard and Frank getting back together, there probably wasn't anything that we could do. Gerard was crazy about him; he wouldn't leave him, or forget about him." Mikey reaches out and pats Brian's shoulder.

Brian smiles a little, but shakes his head. "Thanks, but it doesn't change anything. I loved him, and I let him get hurt." Mikey doesn't know what to say to that, because he knows that nothing he might say will change anything. He feels just like Brian, like everything that happened to Gerard was, and still is, his fault, and no matter how many times Pete, or anyone else, tell him it isn't his fault, Mikey will never believe it.

"You should talk to Pete," Brian says unexpectedly. "You should make things right with him. If you don't, and something happens, you'll regret it." Mikey knows that, but he doesn't know how to talk to Pete without yelling anymore.

"Did you make things right? Did you try?" he asks, and Brian shakes his head.

"Not hard enough."

*

Mikey leaves Brian's room an hour later to go to the bathroom right across the hall, before returning to the bedroom he shares with Pete. He has decided to talk to Pete, but he still has no idea what to say, or what he even _wants_ to say, so he's hoping that Pete won't be there.

He's out of luck, though, because Pete is sitting on the edge of the bed and stands up the moment Mikey walks in. "Oh thank God," he literally bursts out and flings himself at Mikey, hugging him tight. "Where the fuck have you been? When you didn't come back last night I thought— I thought..." He pulls back and Mikey can see the tears in Pete's eyes, the salty traces of dried up tears on Pete's cheeks.

"Pete, it's okay. I'm fine. I've just been sleeping," he says softly, lifting a hand to brush Pete's messy hair out of his face. He looks like he hasn't sleep all night, and Mikey feels the guilt building up as he realizes Pete stayed up all night waiting for him. "I slept in Brian's room. He had an extra bed."

"He went out with you?" Pete asks, and then his eyes seem to fix on Mikey's neck. "Your neck is all bruised. What happened?"

"We were attacked, kind of. They didn't even give us a chance to defend ourselves, just held us tight by the necks and threatened to kill us all if we don't take our shit and leave Chicago." Pete nods and moves a hand to touch Mikey's bruises. He presses down a little too hard, and Mikey winces, and says, "I guess this is it."

"What do you mean?"

"We should just go home. We can't take them, they're too strong and fast, and you guys don't even want to go out there and try. I can't take them myself, and Brian, he can't do it either." Mikey looks at Pete's sad face for a moment and realizes that Pete doesn't want to go home. "I guess you could stay, though, if you wanted. Maybe they'd understand that you didn't want to hunt them, but that you just want to live here."

"Mikey, what are you talking about?" Pete asks, fingers light on Mikey's face, tilting his head down.

"You want to stay here with Patrick, don't you?" Mikey almost can't believe he's said it out loud. He's been thinking it ever since they arrived in Chicago, ever since he saw how well Pete and Patrick got along, how they just clicked. Somewhere in the back of his head he has known that Pete and he aren't really meant to be together. Not forever, at least. It's just been out of convenience because of what they do, because of what they've been through.

"Mikey, I'm not sure what you're thinking, but I have a pretty good idea, and you're wrong. You've got it all wrong, sweetie." The pet name makes shivers run up Mikey's spine, and he shakes his head.

"I've seen the way you look at him, the way he looks at you."

"Mikey, whatever it is that you think you have seen—"

"Pete, I've known you since we were little kids. I know what you look like when you're falling for someone. I've seen it happen countless times," Mikey says sadly, looking down and away from Pete. He just tucks a hand under Mikey's chin and tilts his head back up.

"You never saw me falling for you," he says softly, and Mikey blinks.

"Yes, I did. I saw it years before you—"

"When? When did you see it? A year before we got together? Two years?" Mikey just looks at him, confused. "I loved you long before that. But you were my best friend, Mikey, and you just didn't feel the same."

"But you dated people. What about Ashlee? You dated her for weeks," Mikey asks, recalling the double dates they used to go on. "And you're wrong. I did feel the same."

"And that's when you started noticing my feelings too, right?" Pete replies with a smile. "Ashlee and I never really dated. We were just friends, and I only went out with her because you were too chicken to ask Alicia out on your own, and I wanted to make you happy."

"But you, you were with other people. I saw you, at parties." Mikey's starting to feel desperate. He can't have been wrong all this time. It doesn't make sense.

"I never had any serious relationships, you know that. I didn't have the time for it; I spent all my time with you." Pete steps even closer, cupping Mikey's face with both hands and pressing their foreheads together. "Mikey, trust me when I tell you that Patrick is nothing but a friend. He's a really good friend, and we've already gotten very close, but we're still only friends."

"Then why have you been working against me ever since we came here?" Mikey backs away from Pete's embrace.

"Because I'm scared, and all of the others were hesitant about going out as well. You know what you told us yesterday?" Mikey nods. "Patrick, Andy and Joe had already told us all that the day we arrived. They told us all about the weird murders, animal attacks and people being terrified of going outside after dark. You were asleep when we all talked about it, and I was going to fill you in, but you got upset and stormed out before I got the chance."

"You decided that it was too dangerous before even going out there to see for yourself? And you didn't tell me." Mikey knows he's probably a little too unreasonable, but if all the guys had decided that it was too dangerous to go out, he figures they should have tried a little harder to let Mikey know about it.

"You wouldn't listen! You just fucking yelled at me and didn't give me a chance to explain," Pete says, sounding a little desperate.

"Then you should have tried harder!" Mikey yells, and Pete staggers back. Mikey pants a little, looking at Pete in shock as if he can't believe he just shouted at Pete like that. "You should have tried harder," he says again, quietly, voice nearly breaking. "Brian and I almost got killed last night, and if we go out there again, we definitely will. God only knows why the fuck they didn't kill me the first night, when I was out there on my own."

To Mikey's surprise, Pete says, "You're not gonna go out on your own again. I'll go with you, we all will. I mean, not Patrick and the others, but we will go out to that cemetery, and we will kick some undead ass."

It’s like talking to a wall; Pete isn’t listening to a word Mikey is saying. Mikey’s scared, the realization hits him like a slap in the face. He and Brian almost got killed last night and if they go back out there, they definitely will be, but Pete’s not hearing it. Pete’s acting like nothing has changed, and maybe for him it hasn’t, but Mikey’s world looks completely different from how it looked yesterday and how it has looked for the last five years. They’ve been hunting ghosts, chasing an idea and wanting to make it true, but they don’t have the means to do it.

Mikey wants to kill Frank and all the other vampires, of course he does, but he knows that they can’t do it. He can see that now, he can see all the flaws in the way his friends and he have been working for the last five years, and he knows that they can’t fight the vampires and win. Last night, the vampires had caught Brian and him with the speed of light. Mikey hadn’t even had time to blink, never mind reach for a weapon.

Until now they’ve been lucky, but their time is up and whatever’s been holding the vampires back is not going to do so anymore. If they go back out there now they are going to die. Mikey doesn’t want to die, and he doesn’t want Pete or any of the other guys to die either. He just needs to make them understand, to make them see that they are wrong, that they’ve had it all wrong ever since the beginning. They can’t fight this.

"Don’t you understand? They're gonna kill us if we so much as stroll past that cemetery in the fucking daylight. They'll hunt us down, and kill us."

"You wanna give up? After all we've gone through to get here? After all this time we've spent trying to find Frank?" Pete's the one raising his voice now, but he lowers it again, "Baby, we can't let them win."

"Pete, we can't win."

"Yes, we can!" Pete exclaims, and then he's moving closer again, so close Mikey has to tilt his head down to be able to meet Pete's eyes. "How many times have I promised you that we were going to find Frank and kill him? That if you couldn't do it, I would do it for you?"

"It's a suicide mission," Mikey whispers so quietly Pete wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't standing so close.

"Then at least we'll go down fighting." Pete places his thumb on Mikey's chin as he reaches up to press their lips together, and Mikey kind of melts into the touch. It's only been a few days, but it feels like an eternity has passed since they last kissed.

"I'm not sure we _can_ fight them, Pete," Mikey whispers when they pull away, but Pete shushes him with a finger on his lips.

"Shhh, let's not talk about that right now. We'll brief the others and discuss plans later, okay? Right now..." He takes a deep breath, pausing, and then lets it out as he traces his fingers over Mikey's cheek. "Right now I want to focus on you." He presses his lips against Mikey's again, and stays like that as he whispers, "If I die tonight, or if you die, or if both of us die, I want to be sure... I want to be sure that you know, that you know how much you mean to me."

Mikey almost laughs, he can't help it. "Are you serious?" He weaves his fingers through Pete's hair, tilting his head up until their eyes meet, and he sees that Pete is smirking. He can't believe Pete is actually thinking about sex at a moment like this.

"Yes," Pete murmurs before covering Mikey's mouth with his own, kissing him slowly. His mouth feels hot and wet against Mikey's, his tongue familiar as it finds its way inside to tangle with Mikey's. He pulls away when Mikey lets a soft moan slip from his mouth. "It's been a while," Pete murmurs, still so close Mikey can feel his hot breath on his face.

"I know," he whispers back and lets Pete steer him toward the bed, pressing him down on it. Their lips meet again, and Mikey relishes in the feeling of having Pete's weight pressing him down into the mattress, his fingers digging into his sides just the right way. It's been ages since they did this. Mikey can't even remember the last time he stopped worrying about finding Frank for long enough that he could relax and enjoy being with someone who loves him, and be there for Pete.

"I love you."

*

**Saturday, April 9th 2011**

The day after Gerard went out for coffee with Frank, was his birthday. He had almost forgotten about it, having had so much other shit to talk about, and since he was only turning nineteen, which wasn't really important, he hadn't given it much thought at all. Mikey must have remembered, though, because he came running with Pete into Gerard's room just after eleven, waving a chocolate cake and a cup of coffee under his nose.

"I hope you didn't bake that yourselves," Gerard said, sitting up and gratefully accepting the coffee from Pete.

"Mom made it, but she's at work. Dad said we could surprise you." Mikey put the cake down at the end of the bed before swiping his index finger through the chocolate frosting and sucking it off loudly. "Mm, this is so good," he said before stealing some more frosting.

"You forgot the candles," Gerard complained when he realized what was missing. "I don't get to make a wish?" He didn't have to whine a lot, though, because seconds later Pete's face lit up and he pulled two boxes of candles from his back pocket and threw one at Mikey.

Somehow the two of them managed to sort out nineteen candles and pushed them down into the cake with possibly more force than necessary, and Mikey got out a box of matches and lit them all. "There, Your Highness, you now have candles. Go ahead and make a wish." Mikey bowed stupidly to match the formality of his comment, waving his hand by his head, gesturing toward the cake.

Gerard sighed. "Why do I put up with you?"

"Because you love me," Mikey replied easily, and Gerard snorted.

He turned his focus on the cake instead, scooting a little bit closer and leaning in as he thought about what to wish. After last night, there was only really one thing on his mind—Frank—and Gerard knew that he was definitely worth wishing for. He thought he might actually need to wish for Frank, for them to be together and to be happy, because he knew that if they got back together, they wouldn't have an easy time. They would have to hide from everyone Gerard knew, and even then—

He told himself to stop thinking about it and finally blew out the candles. "Good, finally, now can we eat it?" Mikey asked, pulling out some tiny paper dishes and plastic tea spoons out of nowhere.

"Fine, whatever." Gerard shrugged and let Mikey cut himself the first piece. It was a really good cake, even Gerard who had never been crazy about cakes could agree on that.

"So, what do you wanna do tonight, Gee?" Mikey asked after cutting himself a second piece of the cake. "We could watch movies or something. I talked to Ray earlier, he's coming over."

As good as it sounded, just taking it easy and watching movies, that wasn't really what Gerard wanted. He wanted to see Frank, and to be with him all night, but he knew that there was no way of sneaking away from Mikey, Pete and Ray on his birthday. They'd know that something was up and guard his bedroom and follow him if he went anywhere.

"I don't know, Mikey. We watch movies all the time. I think I'd rather go and hang out at Bachmeier's, you know?" Gerard said as casually as he could.

"But we're at Bachmeier's all the time too," Pete said, frowning.

"Yeah, but I'd rather go to Bachmeier's than watch movies all night." He tried to keep a straight face, to not let on that he had an ulterior motive of going to the bar, and it seemed to pay off, because Mikey just looked concerned, not angry.

"What about Frank?" he said quietly. "Bob and Brian are in Chicago, you're the only one with a fake ID, so you would have to get beer, if we want any."

"It's fine, seriously. I'm over it. If I can hang out there as much as we have the last few weeks, I can fucking buy a beer from him. And, he might not even be working. It's not a big deal."

Pete still looked a little hesitant, but Mikey said, "Okay, if that's what you want," and that was that.

*

Gerard had a plan. He knew he couldn't really talk to Frank with Mikey and the others watching, and possibly listening in, so he wrote a note, asking Frank to come over later that night, which he slipped Frank along with the money when he paid for their beer.

Frank didn't say anything, or smile or nod his head, or do anything else that might have meant he had seen the note and read it, and was going to come over to Gerard's house. At least he didn't give it back along with the change, though, and Gerard didn't see him throw it away, so he remained hopeful.

He had a good time with the guys, once he had managed to stop wondering whether Frank would come over or not, and they actually stayed there a lot longer than they usually did. Normally they'd all just get one beer and make it last, and then they'd leave, but now they got two more rounds, and they never ran out of things to talk about.

It was a bit odd to be there without Bob and Brian, and Mikey said twice that he thought it was shitty of them to take off to Chicago over the weekend of Gerard's birthday, but it was kind of awesome that it was just them after all. They had known each other the longest, after all, since they had pretty much grown up together, and then met Bob and Brian in High School.

Ray even got Gerard a present and, although it was unwrapped, it was totally awesome. It was a DVD that Gerard had wanted for ages, and it was good to know that Ray had remembered, although that could have been because Gerard was pretty sure Ray liked that movie as well.

They left just before twelve thirty, Ray explaining that he was still tired after going to that totally awesome show the night before. Gerard had noticed that Frank had already disappeared from the bar, so he didn't mind at all.

"Hey, Gee, you don't mind if I stay over at Pete's house, do you?" Mikey asked as they stepped outside.

"Why do you always stay over there? I'm pretty sure the bed in your room is for sleeping in, and Mom and Dad would probably like to see you once in a while," Gerard couldn't help but say, because Mikey staying at Pete's house two nights in a row was getting a little much. Not that Gerard really minded as he was expecting and hoping to have Frank over, and he liked having some insurance that Mikey wasn't going to burst in, but he felt that it was his duty as Mikey's older brother to say something.

"He has bunk beds. And more video games than we do," Mikey replied easily, and Gerard laughed.

"Alright. See ya tomorrow. Goodnight," he said, and started to walk, waving behind himself.

"Goodnight!" Pete and Mikey shouted back. Ray had already left.

Gerard walked hurriedly, wanting desperately to see Frank again, and to see whether Frank was going to show up or not. He was already by the basement door, fiddling with his keys to unlock it, when a hand touched his shoulder. He jumped and gave an embarrassing little shriek before turning around to see that it was only Frank, who looked terribly apologetic.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said softly, backing away again.

"No, it's okay, I was just—" Gerard paused, before simply saying, "It's nothing. Come here." He motioned for Frank to come closer, and when he didn't move, Gerard said again, "Frank, come here."

Finally, Frank took a few short steps forward, but when Gerard still didn't think he was close enough, he reached out and touched Frank's face, sliding his fingers further back and into his silky hair, tugging him closer until their faces were mere inches apart. He didn't hesitate before leaning in and brushing his lips against Frank's once, and then again, and then a third time before Frank held him in place by his cheeks, kissing him carefully.

"It's my birthday today," Gerard whispered when they pulled away. "Though I guess it's yesterday now."

"I know," Frank said, smiling, before pecking Gerard's lips.

"I had forgotten about it." Gerard looked down, away from Frank, though he was still combing his fingers through his dark locks.

"I'm sorry," Frank said softly, and Gerard didn't tell him not to be, because Frank was the reason he had forgotten about it. He knew that Frank knew that, and there was no point arguing about it.

"We should go inside," Gerard said instead, finally unlocking the door and stepping inside, attempting to tug Frank along with him, but finding that he got stuck at the doorway. It was as if there was a completely invisible pane of glass in between them, keeping Frank out. "Oh," he said, realizing that Frank's invitation really had been revoked when Mikey threw him out that time. "Fuck, sorry. Come in, Frank." He couldn't help but laugh a little as Frank finally stepped over the threshold and closed the door.

They toed off their shoes and slipped off their jackets before Gerard took Frank's hand in his and lead the way into his bedroom. Frank pushed the door closed behind them, and then just stood there, looking around the room as if he had expected Gerard to have redecorated it since he was last there. He looked awkward and insecure, and it was so odd to see him like that, because ever since they met Frank had been the confident and forward one.

"Frankie, come here," Gerard said softly and tugged Frank close again, just like he had outside, and threaded his fingers through his hair as he leaned down and kissed him. It started out slow and soft, careful and hesitant, which was all Frank's doing. Gerard didn't want slow and careful kissing with barely any tongue, he wanted hot and fast and naked making out on his bed, because he had fucking missed Frank, and he wanted to show him that. He wanted to show Frank that he wanted to be with him, that he didn't care that he was a vampire, that he wasn't afraid, and that he trusted him.

"Gee," Frank pulled away as he whispered. "Maybe we should— Maybe we should just talk?"

Gerard heaved a sigh and took a step back, towards the bed, but pulled Frank with him as he said, "I don't want to talk, Frank. Not right now. We can talk later." He tugged Frank in for another kiss, pressing his tongue in between Frank's cold lips.

"Gee, I just want you to be sure," Frank pulled away and said, quietly. "You don't have to do this, it's okay if you're scared of being intimate with me again."

"Are you deaf? And blind? And stupid?" Gerard asked, feeling laughter bubble up in his chest. "I am sure, and I want you. I want to be with you right now. I have barely even jerked off since the last time you touched me, Frank. I need you."

Gerard felt his cheeks heat up, and it was so familiar to be standing in front of Frank, blushing, that it almost felt like the last few months never happened. Frank was still hesitating, though, so in a last attempt at convincing him that Gerard really was sure, he said, "Do you really think I would have asked you to come here tonight if I wasn't sure? Do you think I would have removed the cross from around my neck last night if I didn't trust you?"

Frank kissed him then, standing up on his toes and curling one hand around the back of Gerard's neck, and Gerard pressed back as soon as he felt it. He tugged on Frank's shirt and kept walking them toward the bed, where they managed to lie down and scoot up to lie on the pillows without ever breaking the kiss. Frank sat up, straddling Gerard's lap, and pulled his shirt off, and Gerard seized the opportunity to do the same before pulling Frank close again. Their chests were pressed together, and it was the weirdest thing ever, not being able to feel Frank's heart beating in there.

"It's so weird," he whispered without realizing, and Frank pulled back a little, brushing Gerard's messy hair out of his face.

"I know. I'm sorry," he whispered back, and Gerard kissed him softly.

"Don't be." For once, Frank took his word for it and went back to kissing the shit out of Gerard, sucking on his bottom lip, then his tongue, before shoving his own tongue deep in Gerard's throat. His hands were everywhere too, sometimes clutching Gerard's and holding them down by his head, before running his fingers down over Gerard's arm to his shoulders and chest. Gerard couldn't believe he had gone without this for so long, he was in fucking heaven.

Frank suddenly left Gerard's mouth alone and started to kiss along his jawline instead. Gerard practically purred when Frank reached his ear and licked it before moving down over his neck. He dug his fingertips into Frank's bare shoulders as Frank kissed the sweet spot where Gerard used to always have hickeys. He bucked his hips up, needing friction, because he was so fucking hard and he wanted his goddamn jeans off.

Then he felt something, against his neck, for the briefest moment. He felt something, and he pushed Frank away before he even registered it. "Don't do that. Don't—" He was panting, and shivering, and Frank sat up and just looked confused, until Gerard said, "Don't use your teeth."

It had only been for a fraction of a second, but as soon as Gerard had felt Frank's teeth grazing his skin, the image of Frank's fangs had flashed before his eyes. He knew that Frank wouldn't do that to him, that he'd never bite him, but once he had thought about it and seen that image in his head, he couldn't forget it. It hadn't even been a conscious thought, it was like a reflex.

"I'm sorry, fuck, I'm so sorry, Gee." Frank leaned forward and captured Gerard's lips in a sweet kiss, his hands petting Gerard's hair, combing through it and brushing it out of his face. "I'm sorry, Gee, I wasn't thinking. If you want to stop—"

"No," Gerard said firmly. He definitely did not want to stop. His deprived dick was demanding attention and, if Frank just pressed his ass down a little bit, Gerard would be so happy. "I don't want to stop, Frank." Frank still looked hesitant, though, so Gerard added, "Just don't use your teeth on my neck and I'll be fine."

"Well, if you're sure," Frank said, and kissed Gerard again.

"I am. Now please get me out of these pants. And feel free to get rid of yours too." Gerard grinned and, to his great surprise, Frank actually did start to undo Gerard's jeans and had them off in only a few seconds. His underwear went next, and then Gerard watched as Frank got off the bed and pushed his own jeans and briefs off before climbing back on top of Gerard.

It was strange to be skin to skin like that again when it had been so long. Frank was warm against him, though, and his cock was hard and smooth and burning hot where it slid against Gerard's.

"Oh God, Frank," he gasped, digging his fingers into Frank's love handles.

"I know, Gee," Frank whispered in reply, voice breathy. He ground his hips down hard against Gerard's and Gerard knew right then that this was all he needed, this was all it was going to take for him to come. Frank seemed to understand that, because he kept moving his hips, his cock thrusting against Gerard's.

Gerard moaned with every thrust, pressing back into it, and moved one of his hands up to Frank's hair, steering their lips together again. They kissed sloppily, mouths open and tongues everywhere, noses bumping and teeth clashing, moans slipping out every other second.

Frank came first, and Gerard was actually surprised by the hot, sticky wetness on his stomach, not expecting Frank to come first when he was so close himself. He came just seconds later, moaning loud into Frank's mouth, tugging on his hair and hips lifting up off the bed. They lay there in silence for a few minutes, just breathing and touching and not caring about the sticky mess between them.

"Want me to get up and get a washcloth? Or something else to wipe this off?" Frank finally asked, and Gerard kind of just shrugged, which wasn't really easy lying down.

"Whatever. I don't care. As long as I don't have to move," Gerard murmured, his voice slightly muffled by Frank's hair which was all over his face. Frank just laughed and got up, and moments later Gerard felt something warm and slightly damp on his skin. Frank's touch was so gentle Gerard would have purred if he had had the energy. Instead, he forced his eyelids open and met Frank's beautiful honey-colored eyes and smiled.

"Come back here," he whined, giving Frank a pleading look and patting the empty spot beside him. Frank smiled softly and hung the washcloth over the back of the chair by Gerard's desk, before finally climbing back into bed and pulling the covers up over them and curling up around Gerard's body, nose buried in Gerard's hair.

"You smell nice," he murmured, and it sent shivers down Gerard's spine.

"What do I smell like?" he asked, turning over a little more on his side so he could touch Frank's side. "Dinner?"

"No," Frank giggled against him, and Gerard could feel it in his whole body. "You smell beautiful, warm, and sweet." Frank sounded thoughtful, like he really wanted to describe this, whatever it was, to Gerard, but couldn't quite find the words. "It's like those first days of summer, and strawberries, you smell like the first strawberries of the season. So rare, so sweet and red, soft and still warm from the sun."

Gerard turned his head a little, so that his cheek was pressed against Frank's, and then moved until he could reach Frank's lips and kissed him. It wasn't a deep kiss, but soft and sweet, warm just like Frank's description had been. Gerard smiled when they broke away, faces still so close that their noses were touching.

"I think that's my shampoo," he said, blushing. He didn't want to ruin anything Frank had said, but he felt like he should be honest, if that was really what Frank thought he smelled like. "The strawberries, I mean. My shampoo smells like that."

Frank laughed. "I figured." Frank pulled him into another kiss, and Gerard couldn't remember the last time he was this happy. He still couldn't quite believe that Frank was with him again, that Frank even wanted to be with him again. He couldn't believe that he cared this much.

They lay in silence for a while after that, simply exchanging slow, gentle touches, caresses and kisses. They were kind of relearning each other's bodies, Gerard was remembering exactly how soft Frank's skin was, how gentle his hands were. He relearned all the patterns of Frank's tattoos and, as he traced his fingers over Frank's chest piece, finding the name of Frank's ex fiancé, he remembered that they were supposed to talk. He suddenly knew what to ask.

"Frank, how old are you? You're not really twenty-six, are you?" He sought out Frank's eyes, wanting to see if he was angry, but Frank just smiled.

"No, I'm not twenty-six. I'm two hundred and seventy," he said softly, looking as if he was still counting in his head before quickly adding, "four."

"Oh," was all Gerard managed to say at first. He was a bit shocked by the number, although he didn't really have a reason to be, because he hadn't known what to expect at all. He hadn't known whether to expect eighty or eight hundred.

Frank squeezed his hand, which Gerard hadn't been fully aware he was holding. "Do you want me to tell you about it? My life before I was turned? Or my life after I was turned?"

Gerard didn't know what to say. He hadn't been expecting Frank to offer to share so easily, like he wanted to tell Gerard everything. Gerard traced the tattoo, the short name written just above Frank's nipple, and tried to picture a face to go with the name. "Not tonight," he finally said. "Right now I'd just like to hear about Jamia."

"Yeah?" Frank said, grinning as if he really wanted to talk about her.

"Yeah. I'll try not to get jealous, I promise." Frank placed a hand on Gerard's cheek and kissed him softly.

"She was the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," Frank started with a dreamy look in his eyes as if he wasn't looking at Gerard anymore, but Jamia. "She came from a wealthy family, her father was a Lord. Being the only daughter in the family, with five brothers, her parents wanted her to marry someone with a title as well, so she was constantly going to balls and dances, although she would rather just stay at home. She didn't like dressing up, wearing clothes she couldn't breathe or move in, she wanted to run around outside, barefoot and in clothes that it didn't matter if she got them dirty."

Gerard couldn't help but notice how the way Frank spoke changed, that he was speaking with an English accent instead of American. "When was this? When did you meet her?"

"In eighteen eighty-seven," Frank replied. "In the summer. It was her favorite time of the year. Like I said, she loved the outdoors, and she loved animals, and most of all, she loved horses and riding. That's how we met. I was just passing by, traveling all over the UK, and had spent the night in a cave nearby. I hid in the stables at the mansion, waiting for anyone to walk by so I could—" He paused, hesitating at the next word, but finally said "—feed, but when I saw her, I knew that I couldn't hurt her."

"She was that beautiful?" Gerard asked. Frank just grinned and nodded.

"She was. She wasn't wearing what a young woman of her status would normally wear, but something I could only assume she had stolen from a maid, so at first I didn't realize that she was the Lord's daughter. That's why I didn't hide from her, because I was pretty sure a girl like her wouldn't sell a poor wanderer out for wanting to catch a few hours of sleep in their stables, but to my surprise she asked me if I was a stable boy. I said yes, because I figured if it was going to make her let me stay, there couldn't be any harm to it. Then she begged me not to tell anyone she had been out there, because her father would be so angry with her, but she hadn't had an opportunity to see the horses or go for a ride in so long, and that's when I understood who she was."

"What did you tell her?" Gerard asked.

"That her secret was safe with me if she was willing to keep my secret as well. She agreed, so I told her I wasn't actually a stable boy, but that I needed a place to stay at night. That way I knew I could come back and possibly see her again," Frank explained. "I met her again a few nights later, and we sat and talked for hours. Back then I couldn't understand why she trusted me so easily, but now I think that she must have been relieved at finding that she wasn't the only one with secrets, and she finally had someone to talk to, someone she could truly be herself with."

"So you didn't force her to trust you? It was all her choice?"

"Yeah. I suppose she had been looking for something like that, a friend that she could tell about her feelings. Of course, there were other young ladies around her, but she couldn't be honest around them, couldn't tell them that she didn't want to get married and spend the rest of her life bearing children and ordering household staff around. She wanted to be free, and that's what our friendship gave her. We even snuck some horses out a few times, after she told me she wanted to be able to ride properly and not like a lady."

"That sounds so romantic. I wish we could do that, and I've never even seen a horse in real life," Gerard said, grinning stupidly.

"Maybe one day," Frank said, kissing him softly. "It was romantic, I guess. We kissed the second time we were out with the horses. We had stopped at the top of a hill, enjoying the view, and she looked at me, with so much love and adoration, I just couldn't not kiss her. She didn't kiss back, but she wasn't upset, either. She just blushed and turned away, starting to go back. Once we were back at the stables and she was about to go back inside, she gave me that same loving look, so I kissed her again, and this time she kissed back. Then she said that she wished she could marry me, she wished she could be my wife."

"Had her parents found a husband for her yet?" Gerard asked, not even able to imagine how horrible it must have been for her, loving a man she would never be allowed to be with, and having to marry someone who was basically a stranger.

"No, but they had a couple of favorites, and Jamia couldn't stand any of them," Frank replied sadly, only giving a small smile when Gerard rubbed his thumb against Frank's side. "She started coming out to see me more often after that, telling me that it was well worth the risk of getting caught. The times we stayed at the stables we'd climb up to the hay loft, and I'd hold her as we talked. I told her that we were going to run away together, that we'd go to Paris, and to Rome, and that we'd cross the ocean to see America."

"What happened? Did you go? Did you run away?" Gerard asked, eager to find out what had happened. It was so weird, it was difficult for him to believe that Jamia was a real person; it was like she was just a character in this story Frank was telling, but the look in Frank's eyes made it real.

"She didn't come out for four nights in a row, and then when she did, she was crying. A man had asked her father for her hand in marriage, and he had said yes. The man was almost twice her age, and had been married before, but his first wife had only given him daughters, and now that she was dead he wanted to remarry so that he could have a son. Jamia was repulsed by the idea, and she begged me again and again to take her away from there. I promised her that we'd run away, that I just needed a few days, but I don't think she believed me."

"Why not? She didn't come back?" Gerard asked curiously.

"The next time she came out, a few nights later, we went riding again, and she brought me too this beautiful clearing in the forest, next to a small lake that was glittering in the white light of the full moon. Before I knew what she was doing she had slid down from her horse and was starting to unbutton her blouse, and when I asked what she was doing, she told me that she wanted to be mine. 'Please, Frank, please. Before it's too late,' she begged me, and I couldn't say no to her. I helped her undress before I took my own clothes off, and then lay her down on top of my coat, and she... she looked so beautiful." Frank's voice broke, and he had to stop. Gerard could feel his throat getting thicker, his breathing unsteady.

"Her skin was so pale it almost glowed in the moon light, and her long black hair was spread out on the ground, looking like some morbid halo. Her eyes were dark and scared, her lips red and a bit swollen from kissing. Her breasts were rather large, full, and so sensitive even the slightest touch made her gasp, and she was— She was so wonderful, so wonderful to touch, so warm and desperate, clinging to me, and the sounds she made—" Frank's voice broke again and, as tears started to roll down his cheeks, Gerard reached out and wiped them off. Frank smiled gratefully and continued.

"She cried when it was over. Not because she was in pain, which she promised me she wasn't, but because she wished it could always be like that. I assured her that it would be, as soon as we got away, but she still didn't seem to believe me. I considered telling her my secret, but it didn't feel like the right moment, so I decided to wait. When we got back to the stables, she kissed me for a really long time and told me she loved me, and I told her I loved her too, but she just looked sad. That was the last time I ever saw her."

"She didn't come back out to see you?" Frank shook his head.

"I waited every night for a week, but then I found a newspaper from just a few days after I last saw her. She was dead." Gerard gasped, but Frank didn't mind him, and continued. "She had been found in the lake where we had been, just the day after. They believed she had been thrown off her horse, into the water, and that her dress and all the skirts had kept her from the surface. The horse was still in that clearing, which was how they found her so quickly."

"Do you think it was an accident like the paper said?" Gerard asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Of course it wasn't an accident. She didn't want to live her life anymore, and she didn't believe in the one I had to offer her." Frank paused, breathing heavily for a moment, then said, "She didn't believe me because she didn't know what I was, what I could make of her. There's nothing I've ever regretted more than not telling her when I had the chance. I thought I had time, but I suppose there is no such thing as time when you're dealing with something as fragile as life." Frank started crying again and, as Gerard wiped his tears away for him, he was surprised to find Frank doing the same thing for him. He hadn't even felt the tears.

"What did you do after that? What happened?" Gerard couldn't help but be curious about how Frank had coped with such a loss, because to him it seemed impossible.

To his surprise, Frank said, "You won't want to hear this part." He sounded bitter. "But I know I have to tell you. I have to be completely honest with you, because you need to know what I am, what I have done, so that you know what I am capable of."

"Frank, what are you talking about?" Gerard didn't like the sound of Frank's words. He knew what Frank was, he knew that he had killed people, that he had to just to stay alive, but now he didn't know what to expect.

"I killed Jamia's family. Every single one of them. I killed her parents, her brothers and their wives, and their children." Frank looked deadly serious as he spoke, but he didn't look sad, and there was no sign of remorse in his face or his voice. "Then, I killed the man she was supposed to marry, and all of his children."

"Frank," Gerard choked out, feeling as if he couldn't breathe.

"I didn't do it because I had to. I didn't do it because I was hungry and starving for their blood. I did it because her parents were forcing her to marry an old, disgusting man who had no respect for women, not that anyone had back then, and her brothers didn't care about her. She was just a girl, she didn't matter to them. Her job was to marry a man and become his property. Not one of them saw her for who she was, a beautiful, smart young woman who only wanted her freedom."

"But the children," Gerard managed to say.

"The children were going to grow up and be the same way. If they were boys, they'd have no respect for women, and if they were girls they might have suffered the same fate as Jamia."

"But you can't know that for sure! You didn't even give them a chance," Gerard said, looking into Frank's eyes that were still free of remorse.

"I know, Gee. I knew that back then as well, but I still did it." Frank paused for a long moment, and then said, "So, I'm going to ask you again, if you're completely sure you want to be with me. I understand if you don't want to, and I want you to know that you can get out of this whenever you want to."

"You sure you won't murder my family if I break up with you?" Gerard couldn't help but ask.

"I murdered Jamia's family because it was their fault that she was dead. Unless your family and friends cause you harm and make you so depressed you kill yourself, I have no reason to hurt them. If you walk out of this relationship, I'll respect and accept your decision. There's a reason I didn't tell Jamia about me, because I was scared she wouldn't want to be near me anymore, and it's the same reason I didn't want to tell you yet."

"You wanted to turn her," Gerard said, realizing what Frank was saying. "Is that what you want with me? You want to turn me?" It wasn't that Gerard had never considered that that might actually be what Frank wanted, but since they talked last night he had kind of suppressed the question from his mind.

"I only wanted to turn her because there was no other way for us to be together," Frank said, almost pleadingly. "You're still young, Gee, and in this world, and this time, you still have a long life, full of opportunities ahead of you. Of course I want to be with you for as long as I possibly can, but turning you is still only my absolute last option."

"What if I asked you to turn me?" Gerard asked.

"I'd do it," Frank replied easily. "But only after having a serious talk about it."

"We're talking about it now, and I don't know about you, but I'm serious."

"I wouldn't do it if I didn't know you were one hundred percent sure about it. Not if I had a choice." Frank caressed his cheek, stroking it softly. "You don't know what it's like. You've only seen me like this. You've only seen me pretending to be human. The only reason I came here and got a job was because I needed money."

Gerard didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything. He snuggled close to Frank, pushing him to lie on his back, and curled around him, tucking his head under his chin. He laid a hand over Frank's chest, not feeling a heartbeat, not feeling the rise and fall of Frank's breathing. He wondered what Frank was really like, what vampires were really like, but then he realized he already knew. He had already met other vampires, Frank's friends, Ryan and the other creeps, and the one thing he remembered about them was that they were scary as hell.

He also remembered how Frank had protected him, though, and that made thinking about the other vampires a whole lot easier. "I want to be with you, Frank," he whispered. "I'll always want to be with you."

"Until you change your mind," Frank whispered into Gerard's hair, hugging him tight. Gerard felt his eyelids starting to get heavy, and Frank kissing his forehead was the last thing he knew before he was asleep.

*

**Thursday, April 14th 2011**

Frank came over almost every night after Saturday, and they would sit and talk for hours, cuddling and kissing, and sometimes getting a little too swept up in that. Gerard learned more things about Frank's past like that, like how Frank had left Europe after what happened to Jamia and went to America for the first time, and didn't return to Europe until almost a hundred years later, after World War II. He told Gerard that he had missed all the great, old cities of Europe so much, and after the war he had been almost afraid that it would be gone. He had a dreamy look on his face when he talked about how wonderful it had been to see Rome again, and Milano and Florence, and Gerard wanted to ask if Frank had gone home to where he had grown up. Gerard knew it was somewhere in Italy, but Frank hadn't told him anything else yet, and Gerard hadn't asked.

However, just as he was about to ask now, though, Frank sat up suddenly and clamped a hand over Gerard's mouth, a serious look on his face. "Mikey's on his way down. Pretend to be asleep." He spoke quickly and quietly, and Gerard couldn't really hear every word, but he understood the meaning and, as Frank got up and disappeared, the light getting shut off in the process, he pulled the covers up to his ears and closed his eyes.

There was a light knock on the door just seconds later, and Gerard could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He had no idea where Frank had gone, if he was hiding in the closet or in the bathroom or under the bed and, as Mikey pushed the door open, Gerard was almost certain that he would find Frank.

"Gee, you there?" Mikey asked carefully, before adding "Why is it so dark in here?" Then the light was switched on again, and Mikey said "Oh, I didn't know you had already gone to bed, sorry."

To Gerard's relief, the light getting turned back on had not revealed Frank hiding in the corner, so to not give Mikey any reason to suspect anything, he did his best impression of himself in the morning before he had had his coffee, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "It's fine, Mikes. What's up?"

It was hot under the covers as he was still wearing clothes and couldn't let Mikey see that, but it was definitely worth it because no matter how fast Frank was, Gerard wasn't sure he could have raced around the room and picked up all of his and Gerard's clothes that would usually get tossed around during the process of undressing.

"Just wanted to see if you're okay. You seemed a bit down earlier, and you barely spoke a word on the way home," Mikey said, still hovering a little awkwardly by the door.

"I'm just tired. I didn't sleep much last night." It wasn't a lie. Gerard had stayed up until almost three in the morning talking to Frank, so he really hadn't gotten a lot of sleep.

"Oh. Nightmares?" Mikey asked, and Gerard shook his head, "Nah, just couldn't sleep."

"Oh, alright. I'll let you sleep now, then. Goodnight," Mikey said, turning to leave.

"Goodnight, Mikey," Gerard replied and, as soon as the door had closed again, he kicked the covers off and sat up. Frank waited a few seconds before stepping out of the bathroom, probably waiting until Mikey had reached the top steps and gone through the door upstairs.

"That was close," Frank said, stopping at the doorway and just looking at Gerard.

"Yeah. Good thing you've got your spidey sense, though," Gerard said with a laugh. He didn't like it when Frank got so serious. It made him worry that Frank was going to leave him again, so Gerard did everything to avoid awkward silences. "What are you doing standing over there? Come here," he demanded playfully, holding his arms out for Frank who finally cracked a smile and pounced on the bed.

Gerard lay back down, pulling Frank down on top of him, arms wound tight around his neck as their lips met. "Mmm," Frank hummed against his lips, and Gerard laughed. "Where were we?" He lifted a hand to brush Gerard's hair out of his eyes, and Gerard reached up to tuck Frank's hair behind his ears. It was long enough to actually stay there.

"Somewhere in Italy, I think. You might have mentioned Leonardo da Vinci for some reason," Gerard replied. He wasn't actually all that interested in old art like that, even if Frank found it fascinating and had traveled to see stuff like Mona Lisa and The Last Supper several times. "Would you mind talking about something else?" Gerard asked before Frank could dive back into the storytelling. "It's just, I really am tired, and I'm afraid I'll fall asleep if you keep talking about historical stuff."

"Okay, so what do you want me to talk about?" Frank smiled and lay on his side next to Gerard, who snuggled into his chest.

"Tell me about where you come from, where you grew up. What was it like? What was your family like? What did you like to do?" He tucked his head under Frank's chin and played with the fabric of Frank's t-shirt, lifting the hem up a little and slipping a few fingers in under it.

"Okay," Frank replied lightly. "I was born in Italy, not far from Bologna, in, I think it was like, seventeen thirty-seven, or something like that. I was the oldest of three sons and two daughters. My father had a farm, though I guess that by today's standards you could hardly call it anything, it was so tiny, but it got us by. We weren't well off by any means, but we weren't starving either, unless we had a bad year and the harvest got spoiled for whatever reason." Frank sighed. "I don't really know what to tell you. It's so long ago; it's all kind of blurred around the edges."

"Oh," Gerard said, not having realized that Frank might have actually forgotten what his life as a human had been like. "Why don't you tell me about your life just before you were turned? How old were you? What were you doing?"

Frank waited for a moment, probably thinking about what to say, before he finally said, "I was getting married. I think I was eighteen, or maybe nineteen, and she was the girl next door. Of course, next door was an almost hour long ride away, but we always met at Church, and kind of grew up together that way."

"What was she like?" Gerard asked curiously. Ever since Frank told him about Jamia, Gerard had been dying to hear about more of Frank's old relationships. He knew that none would be as important as Jamia, but it was still interesting.

"She was beautiful. Her name was Arianna, which means _utterly pure,_ and that's exactly how she was. She was younger than me, still only sixteen or seventeen, when I couldn't wait any longer to ask her father to marry her." Frank giggled. "Before that, I always wanted to see her as often as possible, so if we ever needed to contact her family, if we needed an extra hand, or if they needed an extra hand, I'd always volunteer, even for the stupidest things. I just wanted to see her laugh and smile that magnificent smile I knew she always saved for me."

"You loved her," Gerard whispered, pulling away until he could look at Frank's face and meet his eyes.

"Maybe," was all Frank said at first, gently touching Gerard's face, cupping his jaw with his fingers, stroking his cheek. "I knew I wanted her, to be with her, to start a family with her and spend my life with her, but somehow it never felt like love. I've always felt like love didn't really exist back then, it was a luxury no one could afford. What we had was devotion."

"What's that supposed to mean? You must have loved her. The way you talk about her, it doesn't make sense."

"I suppose I did love her, like family, like a sister, however wrong that sounds, but I wasn't _in_ love the way you are with the person you marry today. We cared for each other, deeply, but we never had the chance to fall in the kind of romantic love that people have today. We couldn't get to know each other well enough for that. We couldn't go on dates, or talk undisturbed for hours, or kiss and have sex."

As he spoke, Frank was staring so intently at Gerard it felt as if he was looking straight into his soul. Gerard leaned forward and kissed him, moving his hands to surround Frank's face, and he tried to convey with this kiss what he hadn't yet been able to express with words.

"All we had were innocent glances and smiles, and hope for a better future, a long and happy life together," Frank whispered as they broke the kiss, foreheads pressed together and noses touching.

"But you never did," Gerard whispered sadly. "What happened? How come you were turned?"

"I was attacked." Frank closed his eyes as if he was seeing it all in front of him, reliving the moment that got him where he is today. "I had been over to help Arianna's family out. There had been a storm the night before and part of the barn had collapsed, so I had been over there to help get the place in order. I stayed late, it was already dark out when I started riding back, and I could hear wolves howling in the forest. I went faster, wanting to get as far away from the wolves as possible, but one of them must have come out of nowhere because the horse got scared and threw me off, and I hit my head." He paused, and Gerard stroked his cheek. "I passed out, and then he was there, and he had already bitten me, and he was— He was just looking down at me."

Gerard kept stroking Frank's cheeks and hair as he listened, and said, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," as he noticed how troubled Frank seemed by the memories.

"No, it's fine," Frank said, reaching up for a small kiss before getting back into the story. "I remember thinking he looked strange, but then he looked normal all of a sudden, the long fangs gone and the face that of a young boy's. I thought it was so strange that a boy that had to be a few years younger than me was there, out in the woods, but then he leaned over me, face close to mine, and I saw his eyes. They were old."

"Old how?" Gerard asked when Frank paused.

"Like they had seen too many things, too many bad things, not enough good things. Like he had seen the end of the world and would live to see it again." Gerard nodded, happy that he had never seen that kind of age in Frank's eyes.

"He started talking after a few minutes, at first just in a language I couldn't understand, French, I think it was, and then English, and then finally he started muttering in Italian, and the things he said were so strange. 'So pretty,' he said, _'So pretty, so beautiful, so perfect for my collection, my family.'_ He caressed my face and licked his lips, still partially covered in my blood, and smiled. _'Do you want that? Do you want to be family?'_ "

"What did you do? What did you say?"

"I shook my head; I couldn't really find my voice. Then he said, _'You're dying,'_ but I think I already knew that. My head hurt, and I felt so weak I must have lost a ton of blood. _'If I leave you, you're gonna die, but you don't have to. You can come with me, we can be brothers, we can live forever,'_ he offered, but I hardly even listened. I was on the brink of passing out again, so I said _'Yes, yes, please. Anything'_ " Frank paused, and Gerard was so swept up in the story he was holding his breath without even realizing it.

"His face changed again, and he bit his wrist and fed me his blood. I drank for what felt like hours, unable to stop, as if I was controlled by this strange thirst I needed to quench. After that, all I felt was this terrible pain, and then I passed out. When I woke up, I was deep inside a cave, and he was sitting just a few feet away, watching me. Everything looked different, everything felt different, and I was so thirsty, so hungry I felt like I hadn't eaten in days." Frank sighed, signaling it was the end of the story, but Gerard wanted to know more.

"What happened after that? Did you stay with him? Is he still alive?"

"I stayed with him and a few others for almost a century, and he taught me what I needed to know about stuff. It wasn't easy to leave my life behind, but I knew I couldn't go back, I couldn't ever see my family or Arianna again. They all thought I was dead anyway, that the wolves had gotten me," Frank said, sounding sad. "And yeah, he's still alive. You've met him."

At first Gerard thought it was some kind of joke, because he couldn't possibly have met the vampire who turned Frank. That was ridiculous. How and when would he have met him? It was strange enough to have one vampire in Belleville, it would be crazy if there had been two, and why hadn't Frank said anything sooner?

"You're kidding, right?" he asked quietly, but when Frank just looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to figure it out on his own, the realization crashed into him like a freight train. It was obvious once he considered it, as they were the only other vampires Gerard had met, the ones Frank referred to as old friends, the ones he had called his brothers, his family.

"Ryan," he muttered under his breath, and Frank nodded.

"Him and Brendon were sired, _turned_ , by the same vampire and were turned only a few decades apart, a couple of hundred years before me. They were apart at the time I was turned, but reunited a couple of decades later. Just a few years after Ryan sired me, he turned another boy, Spencer, and Brendon had turned a guy named Jon. We were meant to be brothers, that's what Ryan always said, but he and Brendon were close in a completely different way, and soon Spencer and Jon were too. I felt lonely, and they all said I should turn someone, but I couldn't just pick the first person I laid eyes on, I needed to know they'd be the right one, so I left them." Frank sighed, tucking some loose hair behind Gerard's ear. "A couple of decades later I met Jamia, and I thought I had finally found the right one, and when she died, I gave up the search."

"What were Ryan and the others doing here, a couple of months ago?" Gerard asked, remembering the way they had looked at him, how they had stared at him without ever needing to blink.

"We still keep in touch and, since I knew he was in Europe at the time, I thought it was safe to tell him that I had met someone, but that was obviously a very stupid idea. After Jamia, he was worried about me, and he wanted more than ever for me to just sire someone, but I refused. So, when he heard about you, he came here right away to try and convince me to just turn you. He thought it was stupid to wait, that it was just begging for the same thing to happen again, and he said that if I didn't turn you, he'd do it himself." Gerard couldn't help the gasp that escaped him at that, and Frank smiled sympathetically at him.

"Don't worry, I'd rather kill him that let him touch you." Gerard forgot any other questions he might have had and just threw himself at Frank, kissing him with everything he had. Their noses were colliding and their teeth clashed, and it wasn't really that good a kiss, but it was all Gerard could do right then to even attempt to express how much Frank's words meant to him. He was falling apart, feeling so much and so strongly at once that his mind and body couldn't take it, but Frank was right there, holding him together.

Frank rolled them over, carefully pressing Gerard down onto his back and lying on top of him, supporting himself on his hands as Gerard clung to him, arms wound tight around his neck and legs almost wrapping around his waist.

"Whatever you do, don't stop kissing me," Gerard murmured against his lips, and he knew he sounded needy and pathetic, but he didn't care. At that moment, what he needed was Frank's mouth on his, and he was going to have it, even if it meant he had to beg for it. Frank didn't seem to have any intention to stop, though, keeping their lips attached even as the kiss slowed. They lay on their sides, heads on a pillow as they kissed lazily, spit mingling and running down their chins, and Gerard didn't ever want it to end.

Eventually, Frank did pull back, though, and all Gerard could think to do was follow. "Gee," Frank laughed against his mouth, placing his hands on Gerard's shoulders to hold him back. "Just wait a minute, okay?"

"No, I just—" He pressed his lips against Frank's again, but he was pushed back once more. The look on Frank's face wasn't angry, but concerned, as if he thought something was wrong.

It took Gerard a minute to realize that something actually was wrong, and another thirty seconds for him to realize exactly what it was, and then he was kissing Frank again. He had to keep kissing Frank, he had to keep his mouth occupied, or he might tell him— He might tell Frank that he—

"I can't tell you," he finally whispered, pushing forward to bury his face in Frank's hair. "I can't tell you yet. I'm not ready." He felt Frank's fingers in his hair and on his back, and he knew that it was okay. He still felt rather overwhelmed, though, because he loved Frank, he had known that since before he even knew what Frank was, but the feeling was still growing stronger and it was getting difficult not to say anything. Especially with the way Frank looked at him sometimes, the way he had seemed to tell Gerard that he loved him several times tonight, only without using those words, and Gerard wasn't sure he could say it first.

"Maybe you should go to bed," Frank suggested after a while, still holding Gerard and running his fingers through his hair. Gerard was already half asleep at that point and only muttered something incoherent against Frank's neck and snuggled in closer. "Do I need to undress you and brush your teeth for you?"

"You can undress me any time you want, Frank. There's no need to ask," Gerard said rather gleefully and not so sleepily. To his disappointment, Frank didn't undress him, but got out of bed and pulled Gerard up with him and almost carried him to the bathroom where he placed him in front of the sink. After that, he simply left the bathroom and Gerard, worried that Frank was leaving already, called out, "Will you stay?"

"Sure," Frank replied, and couldn't help but smile to himself. He loved having Frank there when he fell asleep, even if he knew that Frank wouldn't still be there when he woke up.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Frank was standing at Gerard's desk, looking through his sketchpad. He was still drawing a lot of pictures of Frank, but they were rarely of him looking like a vampire, but rather of him lying in bed, half naked and looking as if he was asleep. "You shouldn't just leave it lying around like this," Frank said. "If Mikey finds it—"

"He'll probably assume that I'm still dreaming about you, and he should be happy I'm not just having nightmares anymore," Gerard finished, stepping over to Frank and placing his hands on Frank's waist, finding the hem of Frank's shirt. "You shouldn't still be wearing your shirt," Gerard whispered, lips pressed against Frank's neck.

"Gee, I said I'd stay, not—" Frank started to turn, and when he did, Gerard caught his lips in a deep kiss.

"What point is there in you staying if you're not even in bed with me? I'm tired, Frank, seriously, I won't do anything. I just wanna snuggle." Gerard looked at him pleadingly, and Frank finally sighed and said, "Fine, but do I really need to take my clothes off?"

"Yes," Gerard said, grinning, and stepped back as he started shedding his own clothes, letting them drop to the floor on his way to the bed. He heard Frank's clothes dropping to the floor as well and, as he was crawling in under the covers, Frank switched the light off before crawling in next to Gerard. "Hi there," he whispered, turning on his side a little to let Frank get in closer, and their lips met for a short moment.

"Hey," Frank replied before kissing Gerard's jaw and lying down with his face pressed into Gerard's neck, like he always did. It wasn't that Gerard minded or anything, but he had started to wonder _why_ Frank's nose and lips were always pressed against his pulse when it couldn't really be that comfortable. It wasn't like he thought Frank was going to bite him in his sleep or anything, and he wasn't freaking out about it like he did on Saturday when Frank's teeth had touched his skin, but he was curious.

"Why do you always do that?" he asked softly, not even getting a reaction from Frank. "Do you want to bite me?" Frank pretty much flew away from Gerard at the question, and Gerard had to reach out and catch his wrist to keep him in bed.

"Gee, I—" Frank started, looking ashamed, as if he had been caught doing something bad. "Gee, you know I would never do that. I'd never hurt you." He stayed at the edge of the bed, despite Gerard's persistent tugging on his arm.

"I didn't ask if you would, Frank. I asked if you want to." He finally accepted that Frank wouldn't come back to him, so he scooted closer to Frank instead. "Do you?" he asked, taking Frank's face in his hands. It was dark, and his eyes hadn't quite adjusted yet, but he could make out Frank's pale face just fine, and it looked sad.

"Yes," he said, so quietly Gerard barely caught it. "Yes, of course I want to." Gerard didn't know what to say, so he leaned forward and kissed him, slow and without tongue, until he knew.

"I guess I do smell like dinner, then," he whispered, remembering what Frank had said the other night.

"Don't say that." Frank placed a hand on Gerard's cheek.

"You can, you know," Gerard said then, not really thinking, or knowing that he had been thinking it. "If you want to, you can bite me. Just, just to taste it." He had thought about Frank biting him, about drinking his blood, but more in an imaginary sense than an actually happening one. He had never thought that he was okay with it, even less that he might want it, but now he realized that in a way, he kind of did want it. He figured it would bring them closer, that it would make him a part of Frank, and Frank a part of him. If there was one thing Gerard wanted, that was it.

"You have no idea how much it means that you'd even offer," Frank said, smiling. "But you don't understand. One taste wouldn't be enough. I'd want more."

Gerard knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed at Frank's words. He couldn't help feeling rejected. "Then you could have more," he whispered, and Frank sighed. "It's not like I'm asking you to kill me, or to turn me, because it's obvious that you want to turn me after what you said about Ryan and the others. This, this is so much smaller, and this I can give you."

"We're not talking about this. Not now, not ever again. You should go to sleep." Frank pulled out of Gerard's grasp and got up, and Gerard could hear him getting dressed in the dark.

"Frank, wait," he said, but Frank was already by the door. "Just think about it." He heard the door close, signaling that Frank was gone, and finally lay back down, sighing and wishing he hadn't pushed like he did. He wasn't even sure why he had pushed it like that, why he was suddenly so into the idea of Frank drinking from him. It was strange, but now that he had started to think about it, he couldn't stop.

*

**Friday, April 15th 2011**

Gerard didn't feel like going out the next day. Mikey and Pete were going out with those girls again and, although Ray and Bob had asked if he was coming out to Bachmeier's with them, he wasn't really in the mood, not after the fight with Frank. It wasn't because he didn't want to see Frank, because he knew Frank wasn't even working, so it was quite the opposite. He wanted to see Frank as soon as possible.

When sundown started to approach, he was getting restless, though, so instead of sitting in his room and just waiting for Frank to show up, which could take ages, he decided to go out for a walk instead. He wasn't exactly thinking about where he was going; he just started walking in one direction, mostly staring at his feet and the ground. When he looked up again, he found himself standing by the church.

He walked closer, looking around at trees and bushes, little spring flowers on the ground, spreading a color in the otherwise still gray world. He threw a glance across the street to the graveyard and considered going over there to say hi to his grandma, and figured he might do it later.

He didn't enter the church, but sat on a little park bench by the entrance, looking up at the tall building that towered over him. He never liked the church, he always felt judged if he so much as looked at it, and the few times his grandmother had dragged him and Mikey with her to mass, he had just sat there feeling uncomfortable. It had been a long time since he had been to mass now, not since he was twelve, and the last time he set foot in a church at all was at his grandmother's funeral three years ago.

"Gerard, what a wonderful surprise to see you here!" Gerard looked up and was surprised to see Father Prescott, who he hadn't seen since the funeral. Father Prescott was nice, and pleasant to be around, and he wasn't the kind of person who bullied people who didn't go to church, but accepted that everyone had different ways to express their faith. Gerard wasn't so much surprised to find him outside the church, but more so that he actually remembered Gerard's name.

"Oh, hello," he said, blushing a little. Why, he didn't know. "It's been a while."

"It certainly has. Aren't you gonna come in?" Father Prescott sat down on the bench and peered at him over his round glasses that rested almost at the tip of his nose. Again, Gerard couldn't help but feel judged, even if he knew that it wasn't the older man's intention at all.

"I don't think so, Father, sorry," he said, looking down at his hands. "I think I'm just gonna sit here a while."

"Well, that's fine too. You won't mind if I just sit here as well, will you?" Gerard shook his head, glancing over at Father Prescott who was twiddling his thumbs peacefully in his lap. "Is there anything troubling you, son?" The question was unexpected, and Gerard startled a bit. "You don't have to talk to me, but you do seem to have an awful lot on your mind, and you know that I won't judge, or tell a living soul about anything you might say."

Gerard sighed, and turned his head a little, away from Father Prescott, and to where the sun was setting behind some trees and roof tops. "I love someone," he said quietly, so quietly he didn't think the Father had heard him, but he was proven wrong when he got a response.

"That can't be bad, can it?"

"I'm not supposed to love him, and I can't tell anyone about it. No one else knows we're together." Gerard's voice grew stronger as he talked, but he couldn't bring himself to look at his listener.

"And why is that?" The questions were so simple, and Gerard wished the answers were just as easy to get out, that he could just say it and get it over with, but he couldn't. He couldn't tell a priest that he was in love with a vampire, so instead he said, "My brother would kill him if he found out. He doesn't think he's good for me. He thinks that I'll just get hurt."

"Gerard, what is this about?" Father Prescott was sounding concerned now, and before he could ask anything else, Gerard was standing up.

"I should go. It was nice talking to you, Father."

"You too, Gerard."

Gerard walked away quickly, crossed the street and entered the graveyard. He could feel eyes on him, following him until he passed through the tall iron gates, and he was instantly relieved once he was truly alone again.

He headed for his grandmother's grave, which was at the other end of the graveyard, closer to the other exit, and to his surprise, he passed quite a few people on his way over there. He supposed that because it was spring, a lot of people wanted to tend to the graves of their loved ones and make them look prettier by planting flowers.

The area around his grandmother's grave was a little quieter, which was nice. He sat down in front of her headstone, crossing his legs Indian style, and picked at the grass, tugging at the straws until they came loose, and shredded them.

"Hey, Grandma," he said, staring sadly at the gray stone that now served as her face to the earth. It was so bland, so boring, nothing at all like she had been, and Gerard wished he could make it prettier. Just after she died, and they had this thing put up, he had still been angry about her being gone, and brought pens to try and make it a little more colorful, but his mother had seen him before he could start and he had been grounded for a month.

"You would have liked some color, though, wouldn't you?" he said, and had an idea. He grabbed a handful of grass and rubbed it on the stone, which had a rough surface, around her name. It wasn't much, but it was something that wasn't gray and boring.

"I miss you, you know? I think you would have been able to help me right now, help me get Mikey to understand, or help me see if I'm making the wrong decision. I love him, I know I do, but I don't know what to do. I want to let him close, but I can't seem to find the way. He doesn't seem to want to find the way."

He heard a rustle of footsteps against the gravel behind him, so he stopped talking, but to his surprise someone said, "Gerard? What are you doing here?" Gerard turned around, not realizing that the sun had finally set until he laid eyes on Frank, whose skin was almost glowing in the moonlight.

"I'm... I'm visiting my grandma," he said, standing back up. "What are you doing here?" As far as Gerard knew, Frank didn't know anyone buried here, so it was really weird to meet him here of all places.

"I, I just woke up," he said. He pointed to the corner fifty or so yards away, where Gerard knew there were a bunch of older graves, big family ones, with crypts and mausoleums. "I sleep in one of the crypts. They're sunlight proof."

"You live here?" Gerard asked, a little shocked. He had been grossed out by the idea that Frank might have been feeding on rats. He wasn't sure what to do with the knowledge that he was sharing living spaces with bugs and rats and other vermin. Not to mention the dead people.

"Yeah." Frank shrugged a little awkwardly.

"Okay. Uh, let's just go home, then. To my place," Gerard said, reaching for Frank's hand, suddenly not feeling comfortable in the graveyard at all.

"Oh, I can't. Not yet. I have to feed," Frank said, pulling his hand out of Gerard's again.

Gerard sighed, and grabbed his other hand instead. "Frank, you don't have to do this."

"Gee, I meant what I said last night about not drinking from you. I don't want to hurt you, I'm serious." Frank stepped closer and cupped Gerard's face with his free hand. Gerard leaned in and kissed him, long and deep.

"I meant what I said to," he whispered. "I've been thinking about it, Frank, more than I had last night, and I want to. I want you to drink my blood." Frank didn't say anything, just stood there, eyes still closed since the kiss. "I don't like it when you drink from other people, okay? It's probably crazy to think like this, but it makes me jealous."

"Gee, I can't only feed from you anyway. It'd just be stupid to start," Frank said, and Gerard could see his defensive walls crumbling as he was starting to give in.

"I know that, but I also know that it means that a lot of the time you wouldn't have to feed from other people. And you wouldn't have to hurt them. You can drink my blood, Frank. I want you to." It was so weird, because Gerard couldn't explain exactly why he wanted Frank to drink his blood, at least not in a way that made sense to other people and didn't make him sound crazy, he just wanted it. "Frankie, I know you want to."

"Gee, I just don't understand why you want me to," Frank replied lightly, pressing his forehead against Gerard's.

"Because I'd rather not have to think about you drinking from some random slut you pass by in the street," Gerard said, almost pleading. "I, I want it to be just us. At least as far as that's possible. I don't want you to touch anyone else." It wasn't the whole truth, but it was part of it, so at least Gerard wasn't lying. "Please, Frank, let's just go home now."

Frank seemed to hold a final debate in his head, before eventually giving in, gripping Gerard's hand tighter as he closed the small gap between their faces and kissed him. "Okay. If you're sure." He looked sad, but there was also a spark of excitement in his eyes, and Gerard felt it as well. He felt his heart beating faster, and he squeezed Frank's hand as he turned and started walking across the graveyard.

The gates facing the church were closest to his house, so that's where they went. Father Prescott was poking his head out of the big doors just as they passed by, and Gerard knew that he saw them, that he saw Gerard with the man he had already said he wasn't supposed to love. He ignored the heavy gaze as best he could, letting go of Frank's hand to wrap an arm around his back instead as Frank wrapped his arm around Gerard's waist, leaning their heads against one another as they walked. It felt like one of the longest walks in Gerard's life, despite the familiar weight of Frank's body pressed against his side, and he almost dreaded the arrival at his house because he was sure Frank would put up a fight again.

To his surprise, Frank simply followed him inside, though, and sat down on the bed once they got inside his room. He didn't look very happy, but he looked hungry, and it seemed like whenever he looked at Gerard, he licked his lips, and his eyes grew a little bit darker. He wanted it, that much was obvious, and it seemed like the part of him that was refusing was only growing smaller as the hunger grew stronger.

"You don't have to do this, Gee," he said as Gerard moved closer, sitting down next to him on the bed, placing a hand on Frank's knee. "It's okay if you change your mind. I can leave, and I can find someone else, I can go. I don't have to drink from you." Frank was still muttering as Gerard turned towards him, placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him.

"I don't want you to go anywhere," he whispered when he pulled back, still touching Frank's cheek. "I trust you, Frank." He unzipped his hoodie and shrugged it off before pulling off his t-shirt as well. He figured Frank would be biting his neck, as was appropriate, but he was wearing a gray shirt and didn't want to risk blood stains. His mother would probably assume it was ketchup or something, but if Mikey got wind of it, he might figure it out in a second and Gerard wasn't ready for that fight just yet.

"Gerard," Frank said, sighing, and Gerard kissed him again, running his fingers through Frank's hair before gently directing Frank's face to his neck. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, and he knew that Frank could feel, or hear, or smell that, but he only hoped it wouldn't make Frank back out. "Fuck, Gee," Frank groaned against his skin, causing Gerard to whimper, because he knew that he was finally giving in.

Gerard let himself be pushed further back on the bed as Frank got on top of him, straddling his lap, clutching his back as Gerard's arms wound tight around his waist. Frank was just about to bite, Gerard could feel it. He could feel it in how stiff their bodies were, how the tension in the room just kept growing thicker until it was unbreakable, how he felt as if they were on fire, and he was about to die any second now.

Then he stopped. "Frank, wait," he whispered hurriedly, hands pushing on Frank's shoulders, but he had already moved back. His face was so strange, all twisted up and his eyes were black, and his teeth were simply dangerous. His fangs were so long, so sharp, Gerard couldn't help but to fear them, because he knew what they could do, what they were there for. Gerard lost track of what he was supposed to say for a moment, forgot why he had pulled back, and just gazed at Frank in wonder, transfixed by the beauty in the monstrosity.

"Gee," Frank whispered, lips barely moving around the sharp canines.

"You're beautiful," Gerard replied, fingers moving over Frank's face, touching his perfectly chiseled cheekbones and full, red lips. "You're beautiful, even like this." He brought his mouth to Frank's kissing him chastely.

"Gee, what..." Frank said, as Gerard simply kept looking at him in amazement for another minute. Then he came back to himself, remembering what he wanted, what he had needed to ask, and said, "You shouldn't bite my neck. It's too easy to see. Mikey will notice in a second. If you could bite me somewhere else, drink from another vein..." He was breathing hard, almost panting, and he hadn't even realized before. He was too excited about this.

He threaded his fingers through Frank's hair again, as he moved back in to Gerard's neck before kissing his way down, teeth scraping the skin along the way, before finally stopping at his chest. He was kissing a spot just a few inches above Gerard's left nipple, licking the spot as the sharp teeth just rested against the skin. "Do it, Frank. Just... Just bite me."

He gasped the moment Frank's teeth broke the skin, pushing up to meet his mouth, pressing his head down harder against his chest. He could feel his blood trickling out of the wound, he could feel the suction created by Frank's still rather cold mouth, and he could feel Frank's lips vibrating with a moan as he drank. It was so intimate, so perfect, so much better than he had even dared to imagine, and he didn't want it to end, he wanted Frank to do it again, he wanted it done a thousand times and he wanted it fucking _yesterday._

He arched his back off the bed, though he could feel himself getting weaker, getting a bit dizzy, and before he knew it, Frank was pulling off, simply licking the wound on his chest. Gerard was still panting, holding Frank's hair in a tight grip, but when he looked up, Frank's face had already gone back to normal, and his eyes were a bright shade of honey when they met Gerard's.

"You taste so fucking good, Gee. So fucking good; so sweet." Frank moved up to join their lips, and Gerard couldn't help but push up into the touch. The taste was strange, this weird metallic and slightly salty tinge that he didn't really like, but at the same time he was so happy Frank had drunk his blood that he couldn't stop kissing him.

He loved the taste of himself on Frank's tongue. He had loved it before too, after Frank had blown him and he could taste his own come, but he thought he might love the aftertaste of his own blood even more, because it was so much more important. Blood was what kept Frank alive. His blood kept Frank alive. No matter how good sex they had, his come was never going to accomplish that.

"That was amazing," he breathed, before hastily pulling Frank back in for a kiss. It didn't last long because he was still feeling weak and tired, so after a moment Frank got back to cleaning the wound on Gerard's chest with his tongue. It was relaxing, and Gerard could feel himself almost falling asleep to the rhythmic rasping of Frank's tongue against his skin. "I'm tired," he muttered after a while, eyelids heavy and hands just resting limply in Frank's hair.

"You should go to sleep," Frank replied softly, pushing himself up off Gerard's chest and leaning down to kiss him softly. "I might have taken a little too much. You're gonna feel a little weak for a few days."

"It's worth it," Gerard whispered, managing to give a small smile. "Will you stay?" He forced his eyes open and met Frank's smiling face.

"Yeah. Come on, I'll help you get ready for bed." Frank rolled off of him before taking his hands and pulling him up to stand. He was right there next to him to support him, though, holding him up even as he brushed his teeth, which was odd because Gerard couldn't see him in the mirror, just his own, paler than usual, grinning face.

Gerard convinced him he could pee on his own, so Frank left the bathroom. He was back at Gerard's side the moment he stumbled out of the bathroom, though, wrapping an arm around his side and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Gerard couldn't help but feel a little like a princess.

"You should sleep in a t-shirt," Frank said as Gerard pushed his jeans down and off his legs. "Just in case Mikey comes in to check on you, you know? We don't want him to see anything." Gerard nodded, but before he could move, Frank had speeded over to his drawers and pulled out an old, oversized black shirt for him.

"Thank you," he muttered, tugging it on over his head before crawling in under the covers. The wound on his chest had stopped bleeding before, when Frank licked it clean, but it still hurt a bit. "Can you get me some Tylenol?" Gerard asked Frank, who had started to get undressed and was about to pull down his pants.

"Of course," he said, handing Gerard two pills and a glass of water not even a minute later, before crawling into bed and holding Gerard close.

The Tylenol worked quickly, and Gerard wasn't far away from sleep when the words he had dreaded to say for so long just came tumbling out. Just last night he had freaked out at the prospect of saying it, and now it felt like the most natural and obvious thing in the world. He clung to Frank a little tighter, fingernails digging into his side, face pressing close against his neck.

"I love you, Frank." He shuddered a little. "Fuck, I love you so much."

Frank didn't respond right away. In fact, it took him several minutes before he said anything, and Gerard was just a second away from sleep when he finally heard, "You really shouldn't."

*

**Wednesday, November 16th, 2016**

When Mikey wakes up, he is feeling so comfy and good all over that, for a moment, he thinks that they have lost. Everything is so nice and warm, with a fuzzy edge to it, that he thinks he must have died and gone to heaven.

Then he realizes that the warm pillow he is lying on isn't a pillow, or a fluffy cloud, but Pete's chest, and that Pete's fingers are combing through his hair, making him purr like a cat. When he opens his eyes properly, he realizes that the reason everything looks a bit fuzzy is because he isn't wearing his glasses. "We're not dead yet," he mutters, mostly to himself.

"Oh, you're awake," Pete said and, stupid as he always has been, stops moving his hand in Mikey's hair, resulting in Mikey lifting his head to glare at him.

"Can I go back to sleep?" he asks, laying his head back down as Pete resumes the hair stroking. "We're gonna die soon anyway, and I figured that sleeping through it will hurt less, so I'll just stay here." Pete's skin is warm and soft, and Mikey can hear his heartbeat, and he never wants to leave. If he's gonna die, he wants to die in peace right here, naked and lazy in a warm bed.

"You don't mean that," Pete says with a sigh, and Mikey can feel his chest heaving. "We're not gonna die at all, but if we, against all odds, do we're going to go down fighting and take as many bloodsuckers down with us as possible."

Mikey doesn't bother replying, just starts moving his fingers over Pete's skin, drawing invisible patterns over his chest and belly. He wishes it could be like this all the time, waking up with Pete and just lying in bed all the day, not doing a thing except being together. He knows it can be like this, which is the worst part, because all they would have to do is stop chasing Frank. He has never really considered it before, but he is now, because he doesn't want to die. He wants to live, with Pete. He still wants to avenge Gerard, of course he does, but no matter what they do, it won't bring him back.

He opens his mouth to tell Pete, but is interrupted by a knock on the door and Pete yelling, "Come in!" Mikey barely has time to make sure he's covered by the blankets before the door opens and Ray, Bob and Brian step inside.

"You could have gotten dressed before telling us to come in, assholes," Bob says darkly as he steps on a shirt. He picks it up and throws it at Mikey's head. Mikey, who recognizes it as his, puts it on and sits up with the blanket still covering his legs.

"It could have been important," Pete replies and sits up next to Mikey. He gestures for something on the floor next to Brian until he picks it up and tosses it on the bed, and Mikey realizes that it's Pete's jeans.

"Where are my glasses?" he asks, and Pete picks them off the nightstand and hands them to him. "Thanks." He smiles at Pete, before turning to the rest of the guys. "Are you gonna stand there and watch us get dressed? 'Cause I don't have any underwear on." Bob grumbles something inaudible and stalks back out the door with Ray and Brian in tow, and Mikey can't help but giggle, "Do you think they'd be pissed if we just went back to sleep?"

Pete has already got up and put his boxers and jeans on, though, so Mikey hurries to do the same. "I still think it's a better idea to just leave and go back home," Mikey says once he's got his clothes back on and is smoothing his hair down. "It's stupid to risk everyone's lives when we stand no chance."

"Let's talk to the others before we decide anything, okay?" Pete says, taking his hands and reaching up to kiss him. "Maybe they can inspire you to fight again."

"Pete, it's not about wanting to fight or not. It's about accepting that Gerard is never coming back, and that it's time that we try and live our lives instead of chasing something around the globe that we will never catch anyway." Mikey doesn't realize how loud he's shouting until the door opens, revealing Bob, Ray and Brian again.

"So you want to give up?" Ray says, looking sad. "After all this time? After everything we've been through? After what that monster did to Gerard? You're just gonna let it be? You're gonna let him ruin other people's lives as well? Let him murder and abduct other people's brothers and friends?" Ray looks almost as if he is going to cry, and his voice sounds even more high-pitched than usual.

"They said they were going to kill us if we didn't leave," Brian says, receiving glares from Bob and Pete, whereas Mikey smiled gratefully. "Mikey's right. It's time to move on. We don't stand a chance against them."

"It's easy for you to say that it's time to move on," Pete says. "You haven't been here for more than a few days. We've been trying to find Frank for almost six years! We've given up on having normal lives!"

"Just because Brian hasn't been with us all this time doesn't mean he doesn't get the right to have an opinion," Mikey says, placing a hand on Pete's arm to try and calm him down. "He loved Gerard, just like all of us did." He sighs, and adds, "I'm not gonna keep talking about this in a fucking bedroom." He pushes himself in between Ray and Brian and walks out, heading downstairs to the kitchen.

He leans against the counter and waits for the others to catch up and gather in the kitchen before he says, "There's something wrong about how things are here." Everyone looks at him as if they think he's joking, but Mikey's not talking about the attacks and murders, he's talking about how their source had told them that Frank was going to be here alone. "That witch you met up with," he says to Bob and Ray. "She said she hadn't seen anyone but Frank here, that he was on his own, but the two vampires we met last night weren't Frank and, with the rate of people getting attacked here, there has to be a lot of them around."

"You're saying she lied to us?" Bob asks, face going dark.

"I'm saying someone made her lie," Mikey replies. "It's just that, nothing that's happened since we got here makes sense. The first night I went out, I found notes telling us to leave, notes written by someone who was forging Gerard's handwriting, and the two we ran into last night threatened to kill us if we didn't leave."

"Whoever compelled that witch must have wanted Frank dead, but not have the guts to do it," Pete says thoughtfully, but then Brian says, "Or they wanted us dead. If they knew we're hunting vampires, and more specifically, Frank, they must have known we'd do anything to kill him, but that we'd never make it because if we expected one vampire and found a dozen, we wouldn't stand a chance."

"I think you're right," Mikey agrees. "But I don't understand why Frank's gang warned us to go away. Why don't they just kill us?"

"Are we even sure Frank is here?" Bob asks, and Mikey and Brian answer him in unison, "Yes."

"He's definitely here," Mikey states and crosses his arms over his chest.

"How can you be so sure?"

"No one else would be able to copy Gerard's handwriting like that," Mikey says, almost at the same time as Brian says, "The vampires we met last night knew things that only Frank would know, so he must have told them."

"Like what?" Pete asks skeptically, like he still doesn't think Brian's opinion is as important as anyone else's.

"That I had feelings for Gerard." Mikey watches as Pete's eyes widen, and as Brian's cheeks flush red. "Gee knew, and I know that he told Frank about it. Those vampires knew who I was."

"Well, anyway," Bob says, kindly taking the attention away from Brian. "Maybe Frank doesn't want to kill us because he feels guilty already about killing Gerard and taking him away from us? I know it's kind of farfetched, but it could be. You said yourself that no one else could have written those notes, and—" Bob flails a bit, looking as if he has just thought of something else. "He must know that we're here to kill him, and I was thinking that he might know who fooled us into thinking he was alone, and feels bad for us getting tricked and would rather not kill us because of it."

"Yeah, sure," Mikey says. "So we're going home?"

Pete sighs, a sad look coming over his face. "Mikey, seriously, why are you so against going through with this? Two days ago all you wanted to do was go out there and attack them, not worrying about what might happen to you if you did, and now you just want to leave? The only thing you've wanted ever since you found out that Gerard and he were still together is to see Frank dead, to kill him. Don't tell me that you're too scared all of a sudden."

"What if I am, Pete? What if I am too scared?" Mikey whispers, noticing how everyone else pointedly looks away as Pete moves close and kisses him deeply.

"Then I'll kill him for you. I don't know how many times I've promised you that, Mikey, but I know that I've meant it every time. I'm gonna kill that bastard, but you have to be there, Mikey. You have to see it," Pete whispers against his lips, eyes wide and serious. "You have to be there."

"What if we die?" Mikey asks, pressing his hands against Pete's chest, tracing patterns on the print on his t-shirt. "What if you die?"

"If I die, and you live," Pete says, smiling at Mikey, his eyes so fucking intense Mikey can't look away. "You promise me you never stop living."

*

**Tuesday, April 19th 2011**

Gerard felt weak for a few days after Frank drank from him, but he managed to pass it off by claiming that he still wasn't sleeping well. Mikey looked really guilty and offered to start sleeping in Gerard's room again, but Gerard told him a firm and definite no. He also said that since Mikey snores he probably wouldn't be able to get any sleep anyway, just for good measure, and Mikey laughed and gave it up. Gerard knew he was happier sleeping in his own bed anyway.

"Hey, so, is everybody going to Bachmeier's tonight?" Pete asked as he came up to Mikey and Gerard in the hallway before first period. Before anyone could manage to reply, he continued, "Because I just talked to Ashlee, and she and Alicia said they wanted to hang out."

Mikey looked instantly excited, but Gerard wasn't all that happy about it. He didn't like bringing new people into the group. It meant he had to at least try being happy and outgoing and friendly, and he wasn't really feeling like it at the moment. He also hadn't seen Frank for the last two nights, so he'd rather stay at home and be with him. He thought he might be ready to let him drink from him again, if Frank wanted to, which Gerard knew he did.

Frank's latest victim had been Gabe Saporta, which was the weirdest thing ever, because he was an asshole so his blood couldn't have tasted that good, and Gerard couldn't help but feel kind of offended that Frank would go from drinking _his_ blood to drinking that shit. However, it seemed that Frank had had an ulterior motive when he did it, though.

Gerard realized that when he was cornered by half the basketball team in the bathroom again. Gerard had thought for a short moment that Gabe had known that Frank had bitten him and that he wanted to beat Gerard up because of it, because he knew they were a thing or whatever, but then he hugged him.

Gerard was too stunned to say anything, or do anything that wasn't just standing there, frozen to the spot whilst Gabe Saporta hugged him tight and patted his back. He wasn't the only one that was shocked and confused, though, all the other guys in the room were too. "What the hell is he doing?" a short guy with weird and frizzy hair, whom Gerard vaguely recognized as the team's newest addition, asked Beckett, who just muttered something inaudible in response.

"Gerard, I feel like we've been horrible to you, like I have been horrible to you. We'll be graduating soon, and I just wanted to take this opportunity to apologize before it's too late, so that we can all be friends." Gabe sounded a little drunk, or stoned, and the way he talked reminded Gerard of hippies or something.

"Are you fucking with me?" Gerard said, freeing himself of Gabe's embrace, because this was ridiculous. This was like something out of a teenage drama, where the bullies try to trick the victim into believing they're all friends before ridiculing them in front of the whole school. Then Gerard realized that if this was like that, the rest of the guys should probably have been in on it as well, but they all looked just as shocked as Gerard. Or, in the Butcher's case, kind of murderous.

"No! I just wanna be friends!" Gabe grabbed his shoulders, grinning like a mad person.

"Gabe, what the fuck are you doing?" Beckett pulled Gabe away from Gerard, and seemed to attempt to hold some kind of mute conversation with his eyes.

"Bill, you have to show some love! We can't all be assholes all the time, we have to show some _love!_ " To everyone's horror, or, in Gerard's case, amusement, Gabe grabbed Beckett by the head and kissed him. It lasted for about five seconds, and it was one of the most awkward things Gerard had ever witnessed. Beckett looked absolutely horrified, and the rest of the basketball team looked as if they wanted to beat Gabe into a bloody pulp. He finally pulled away with a loud smack, and Beckett didn't hesitate a second before turning on the spot and running away. "Bill, where are you going?" Gabe called after him, before taking off as well. "Bill, come back here!"

"So..." Gerard said, shuffling his feet a little awkwardly and staring at the floor to avoid eye contact with anyone. "You should probably take him to the hospital. It seems like whatever animal attacked him and bit him must have infected him with something. Messed up his head."

They all just ignored him and left the bathroom, leaving Gerard to wash his hands in peace. He wasn't sure what to think of all this, it was too weird. He wanted to laugh at how Gabe had gotten what he deserved, and at how Bob must have been right about Gabe and Beckett's secret love affair, but he couldn't laugh when he was so confused.

It was obvious what had happened to Gabe; that Frank must have done something after biting him, something more than making him believe it was an animal attack. It didn't make sense, though, because Frank had said that he couldn't just plant ideas, and he couldn't do it without a certain level of trust, because he needed to get close enough.

It wasn't the first time he had thought about how odd it was that the attacked people, like that cheerleader Victoria, had all been compelled to believe that they had been attacked by animals. It wasn't supposed to work that way, not according to Frank. If there was one thing Gerard didn't like thinking about, though, it was that Frank might have been lying.

*

When Frank came over that night, Gerard waited a bit to ask him about Gabe, and whether or not he had lied that time he told Gerard about how compelling works. He didn't want to just jump at him and risk making him upset so that he'd leave without giving him any answers, and he figured that not bringing it up right away would be better.

Right now, they were kissing, and Gerard could tell that Frank was definitely very interested in biting him again by how much attention he paid to his neck and the almost healed wound on his chest. He licked and sucked at it again and again, and Gerard was practically keening, because he wanted Frank to bite him again, however strange that could be. He couldn't wait to feel Frank's fangs sinking into his flesh again, piercing his skin.

"Frank, do you want to bite me?" he asked, an idea forming in his head. He was panting a little, and whined when Frank stopped licking his chest, moving up to kiss his lips instead.

"Yes, yes please, Gee. Please, let me. I'm so hungry." Frank kissed him deep, pushing his tongue into Gerard's mouth, sucking on his bottom lip, biting until he drew blood.

"Yeah, Frankie, yeah. Just answer a question for me, and you can, okay? Just one question," he said breathlessly, Frank's tongue moving against his lips, lapping up the blood that slowly seeped out.

"Anything," was Frank's response, and Gerard breathed out a sigh of relief, and gently pushed Frank back. "Gee, what—" he whined, but stopped when he saw the serious look on Gerard's face. "What's wrong?"

"What did you do to Gabe Saporta?" Gerard asked, his voice barely a whisper. He noticed Frank staring at his lips before he felt the blood gathering there, and he raised a hand to wipe it off. "Frank, what did you do to him?"

"I made him stop harassing you." Frank sighed, finally looking away from Gerard's bleeding lip. "I wanted to kill him, but I figured altering his personality would be punishment enough."

"You said you couldn't do stuff like that. You said you could only work with what was already there, and you said there needed to be a certain amount of trust involved. You've been doing it to lots of people after biting them, Frank, and it just doesn't make sense."

"I did work with what was already there. All the people I attacked believed two things, and that's that they were either just attacked by some crazy animal, or some really strange person. All I had to do was make them forget about the second alternative," Frank said, making it sound so simple, and obvious, but Gerard still wasn't sure he was telling the truth. "And believe it or not, but deep down, there was a softer side to Gabe Saporta, and I just enhanced it, and made him realize that he should apologize to him."

"I think you made him gay," Gerard said, fighting back a laugh as he remembered the way Gabe had chased after Beckett after kissing him.

"It was already there. I just helped bring it to the surface." Frank's voice was gentle, and Gerard wanted to believe everything he said, he really did, but something still didn't add up.

"But they're still all strangers, with no reason to trust you. You said you couldn't work with people who didn't trust you at all."

"I could, because they were weak. I had just taken almost forty ounces of their blood, they had no resistance. They couldn't fight it off like you can if you are perfectly healthy."

"It's really that simple?" Gerard asked, because he still wasn't sure whether to believe it. He felt bad for doubting Frank's word, and he almost wanted Frank to have lied before so that he could tell the truth now and have Gerard's suspicions be justified. "I just..."

"It is that simple. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about what I did to that guy, though. I should have warned you. What did he do?"

"He hugged me, in front of the whole basketball team, before kissing his best friend and chasing after him when he ran off." Frank laughed so hard he practically collapsed on Gerard, who giggled too, before saying. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you."

"It's okay," Frank said, kissing him softly. Within seconds they were back to the intense making out they had been doing before, Frank sucking on Gerard's lip although it wasn't really bleeding anymore.

Remembering their little deal, Gerard said, "Frank, you can bite me now. It's okay."

"Yeah?" He looked up, kissing Gerard deeply again before sliding down Gerard's body, kissing over his chest, licking the spot he had bitten last time, but continuing down to below his ribs, finding a new spot for a reason unknown to Gerard. He figured that Frank wanted to change things up since he couldn't bite his neck anyway, or maybe that spot on his chest hadn't been very good.

He kissed the soft spot below the ribs on the right side, and Gerard could feel his fangs and it was an exhilarating feeling. This was exciting, it was dangerous, it was like dancing with wolves, or skydiving, only not because he felt completely safe with Frank.

Frank didn't drink as much this time, which was a relief, because Gerard didn't exactly enjoy the part where he felt sick and weak for a few days. He also hadn't liked that he had fallen asleep almost right away afterwards the first time, and now he felt like he still had some energy left.

"Frankie, come here," he said, voice a little thick, but it was nothing. Frank had been licking at the wound, but it had almost stopped bleeding, so he crawled up to Gerard and kissed him softly, letting him taste himself in Frank's mouth. "Is this weird?" he asked Frank quietly. "That I like it?"

"A little," Frank whispered, caressing his cheek. "It's mostly hot, though." He ground his hips down against Gerard's, and it was like getting plunged into ice-cold water. It was such a shock to his system because he hadn't even realized he was hard.

"Oh God," he gasped and reached out to kiss Frank, but he had already moved down Gerard's body and had his jeans undone. Gerard could only fist his hands in the sheets and lift his hips up as Frank tugged his jeans and underwear down and, when he felt Frank's hot mouth on his cock, he bucked so hard he'd feel it in his neck for days. Frank didn't hesitate, but swallowed him down right away, bobbing his head and swirling his tongue so good Gerard couldn't think straight. "Frank— Frankie— Oh."

Frank moaned around him, and Gerard came so hard and sudden that he saw stars. Frank swallowed every last drop before pulling off and getting his own jeans undone and jerking himself off, Gerard watching through half-lidded eyes. It didn't take him long and, when he came, eyes locked with Gerard's, Gerard had regained enough control of his body to reach out and pull Frank's hand to his mouth and lick his come off. Seconds later, Frank's tongue was in his mouth and they were making out again, only pulling away because Gerard needed to breathe.

"That was— Holy shit, Frank, I— I fucking love you." Gerard grinned, letting Frank kiss him again.

"I love you too." Gerard was getting tired again after all, so he just smiled and snuggled into Frank as he lay down next to him. "You can sleep, you know. It's okay."

"I'll just take a nap. I don't want to waste too much valuable time sleeping." Gerard sighed, because he hated how the days kept getting longer as the nights kept growing shorter and shorter, the sun setting later and rising earlier. He wanted to spend as much time with Frank as possible, but nature was not on his side.

He woke up again about an hour later, still curled into Frank's side. He loved waking up like that, and he knew he'd never stop wishing he could wake up like that every morning, sneak a few kisses and touches in the dark under the covers, and some mornings, when there was more time, maybe even something more.

Now it was only late evening, and Gerard didn't have the energy to do much more than crane his neck enough to reach and press a kiss to Frank's cheek, and then his lips when he turned his head. "What are you thinking about?" Gerard asked, laying his head back down on the pillow as Frank shifted up on his elbow, smiling down at him.

"You." He brushed a not quite kiss over Gerard's lips.

"What about me?" Gerard questioned and, for not even a second, a slight frown came over Frank's face.

"Just, you know, wishing we could have more time, and that we didn't have to hide all the time."

Gerard sighed and grasped Frank's hand. "I'm sorry. Maybe in a while, in a few months, I can try and talk to Mikey and the others, but it's still too soon. They're still dead set in their belief that you're a monster, and I can't change that, not when it's still so fresh." Frank lifted their joined hands to his lips and kissed Gerard's knuckles.

"I know. I'm just scared we'll run out of time." Gerard couldn't really say anything to that, because he hadn't seen what Frank had seen, or been through what he had been through.

From Gerard's perspective, one of the biggest worries was that Frank would stop loving him, that they'd get bored of each other because they couldn't do anything but stay cooped up in his bedroom. Right now everything was still new and exciting, and there were still many things they hadn't tried or talked about, but there was no way of knowing how exciting things would be in two months.

They lay in silence for a while, until Gerard said, "Tell me something, about you, or about vampires. Just anything, really."

"Like what? You have to give me something to go on." Frank shifted next to him as Gerard thought about it.

"Where do you come from? Where do vampires come from? How did it start?"

"Nobody knows. It's like with humans; no one really knows who the first human was, how life came to be. All we have are old stories, fairy tales, just like different religions have different stories of how the world was created." Gerard sighed, because that was not an answer.

"So tell me some of the stories," he begged, squeezing Frank's hand.

"I can tell you one, I guess. It's not so much about the beginning, but rather about the middle and how we're all just waiting for the end." Gerard nodded, though he wasn't sure Frank could see it. "The story says that the first vampires lived in Europe, far, far up north where the sun never came up in the winter. They lived there for thousands of years, terrorizing all the humans who lived up there during the winter, but resting all summer because the sun never set."

"Were there a lot of them?"

"No, because that far up north it was always terribly cold, especially during winter, so that there weren't a lot of humans living there, so there wasn't enough to feed more than possibly ten or so vampires. Some believe that they were once humans, a whole tribe or village, and that they all went crazy and attacked neighboring tribes and drank their blood. They lived in darkness and fled the light, making them more sensitive with time, until they burned at the slightest touch of sunlight. They lived off animal blood and meat for a long time as well as human blood, but animals didn't possess the same life force, so eventually it made a lot of them fall ill and die."

"But they didn't die. What happened?"

"There was supposedly only a handful left when a shaman of one of the tribes they were feeding off cursed them. He drew a line on the ground between the tribe and the vampires and said that vampires will never cross that line again. The sun rose minutes later, burning the vampires who were no longer in the land where the sun never rose. The line the shaman drew had been exactly on what we call the border of night and day, but it's more commonly known as the Arctic Circle."

"But they didn't die," Gerard said again. "They can't all have died, that makes it a crappy story and not believable at all since there still are vampires in the world."

"No, they didn't all die. Three of them found cover from the sun before it was too late, and those three are supposedly the first vampires that the rest of the world saw. They started to travel all over Europe, only ever at night, of course, because they now needed to hide from the sunlight during the day. With time, they got so used to resting during the day that it became almost a necessity."

"How come they could turn others? I mean, if they were humans who simply got used to never being in the sun, and drinking human blood, and all of that stuff, how come they could turn people into vampires just like that? Like, you told me you were turned by drinking vampire blood. Then you were a vampire. It didn't happen gradually."

"If the story is even true, I think it was the shaman's magic that did it. Unintentionally, he made them another kind of creature, another breed. That's why this is my favorite story, because it makes the most sense. The shaman's magic explains why vampires can't bare the touch of the cross, or any other symbol of Christianity, because the people of the north always believed in other Gods, and were called heathens by the Christians. Their magic was recognized as forces of evil, and so the vampires who had been touched by it, were repelled by Christian symbols."

"What about garlic, then?" Gerard asked, remembering the incident with the hidden garlic in his drawer, and Frank's supposed allergy shock. "And not being able to enter people's homes? How do you explain that with the story?"

"The magic, of course. It's rumored that the shaman used garlic for the spell, and the reason we can't enter people's homes uninvited, is because the magic has grown stronger over thousands of years, and has extended enough to cover living spaces of all human beings, keeping us out, just like the vampires were kept out of the dark land by the border of night and day."

"Wow. So you really do believe it?" Gerard asked, still rather skeptical.

"Of course not. I'm just saying that this one makes a lot more sense than most stories. And it's not as disgusting as the one where Egyptian Pharaohs killed newborns and drank their blood. I don't think anyone actually believes in that one, but they tell it anyway just because it's so awful."

"Yeah, no. No killing babies," Gerard agreed, and Frank laughed. They sank into a comfortable silence after that, just lying together and, in Gerard's case, thinking about the story.

He tried to imagine what it had been like, the constant darkness and living in fear for the vampires, the humans that went crazy and hid from the sunlight. He couldn't really decide whether he believed it or not, though, so after a while his mind wandered elsewhere, and he asked, "Has anyone ever gotten it right? In books and movies, I mean. Twilight is obviously way wrong, but I mean, Buffy seems pretty accurate, and I've always liked Dracula."

Frank laughed again, though it was more like a giggle now. "Well, like you said, Twilight failed pretty badly, and the Vampire Diaries aren't much better, though at least they don't sparkle." Gerard laughed as well at that. "I guess all of the great vampire stories have gotten something wrong. Like in Dracula, for example, you're turned if you're just bitten by a vampire, which is funny because Bram Stoker did a lot of research. It's rumored amongst my kind that someone actually compelled him to get some facts wrong."

"That's creepy," Gerard said, shuddering. "What about Anne Rice's books then? I haven't actually read them yet, not that I really want to anymore, but I've seen the movie with Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise about a hundred times. She got the turning part right, didn't she?"

"That's true, she did, but her vampires can survive on animal blood, remember? I can't." Gerard nodded. "I think Buffy's the most accurate one, but I can't remember whether they drink animal blood or not. It's the one I've enjoyed the most, though."

"Yeah, it's pretty good." They fell into silence again, and Gerard was starting to get really tired. He never slept enough and, with Frank drinking his blood, he felt weaker than he should. And although he didn't want to waste any more time with Frank sleeping, he knew he didn't really have a choice.

"I'm gonna sleep now," he said, turning his face to Frank who gave him a kiss. "You'll stay, right?" He still asked Frank every night, although he probably didn't need to. Frank knew that Gerard loved having him there when he fell asleep, and Gerard was pretty sure Frank enjoyed watching him and holding him as he slept as well.

"Of course," he replied, smiling, before helping Gerard get his jeans off without standing up. Gerard found his t-shirt by the end of the bed and put it on, having grown used to sleeping in a shirt since Frank bit him the first time. "Hey, how's your chest?" Frank asked, reaching out and pressing a hand against the spot he had bitten just a few hours earlier.

"It's fine. I can barely even feel it." Frank pulled him close and kissed him, even as they lay down and Gerard fumbled for the covers. They just kept kissing, slow and sweet, exchanging little smiles every now and then. They kissed until Gerard's brain was ready to short circuit and pass out, and he finally pulled back and rested his head on Frank's bicep. "Falling asleep now. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Gee."

*

He startled awake just a few hours later, and it took him a moment to realize what had woken him. "Frank?" he muttered sleepily, but Frank wasn't in the bed, or even in the room.

"Gee?" someone that wasn't Frank said, and the light came on, revealing Mikey, just as the voice said, "It's me." From what Gerard could see with his blurry, half lidded eyes, Mikey looked as if he had just gotten home, because he was still dressed and everything.

"What the fuck, Mikey. It's in the middle of the fucking night. I'm trying to sleep," Gerard whined into his pillow.

"I just got home," Mikey said, confirming what Gerard had assumed. "I've been with Alicia." The name didn't mean anything to Gerard at first, because he was still only half awake, but then he remembered the girl Mikey couldn't shut up about now that he didn't have any vampires to talk about. The girl he had gone out with a few times, always in the company of Pete and that other chick.

"So? Did you use protection?" Gerard asked grumpily.

"We didn't have sex, asshole." Mikey stepped further into the room, which Gerard wasn't really okay with. He couldn't be sure if Frank was still there or not, so he couldn't let Mikey stay for long. "We just kissed. A lot. And she let me touch her tits. Only outside her top, but still." He was kind of beaming and, when he sat down on the edge of the bed, Gerard forced himself to sit up as well.

"Congratulations, or whatever," he muttered and patted Mikey's shoulder awkwardly. "I really hope for your sake that Pete and his date weren't still chaperoning at that point."

"No, he walked Ashlee home," Mikey replied, still beaming and licking his lips like he was remembering the kissing. Gerard wasn't sure if this was actually Mikey's first kiss, or if he was only this excited because of the girl, but either way, he didn't really have the energy to be excited for him right now.

"Mikey, I'm sorry, but I'm really tired. We can talk about it tomorrow, if you want," he said, a little awkwardly.

"Oh, okay, yeah. I'm sorry; I just wanted to tell someone. Can I sleep here?" Mikey asked hopefully, and right then he didn't look like a fifteen year old who just got to make out with the girl he liked, but like the little kid he had always been, that Gerard had always loved. Which was why it actually hurt to tell him no.

"I'm sorry, Mikes, I'm just so tired, I'm not sure I'll be able to go back to sleep with you here. And you snore, remember?" he joked, and Mikey nodded, understanding.

"Okay, yeah. See ya tomorrow. Goodnight," he said, still grinning, and stood up.

"Goodnight, Mikey," Gerard said, just as Mikey hit the light switch again, and closed the door. The bathroom door swung open ten seconds later, just like Gerard had thought it might and, when he saw Frank step out, he didn't feel so bad about saying no to Mikey anymore. "Hey, come back here before I fall asleep again."

Frank was right there, next to him, in a second flat, and Gerard shuddered at the feel of his chilled skin. "You're cold," he whispered, finding Frank's lips in the dark and kissing them until they felt a little warmer. "I love you. Goodnight, again," he said, lying back down with Frank, ready to doze back off.

*

**Wednesday, May 4th 2011**

Gerard was, maybe not happier, but far more relaxed than he had been in a long time. Not because _his_ life had gotten any easier over the last few weeks, because he still had a lot of school left, and he still had to keep his still rapidly progressing relationship with Frank a secret, but because the people he cared about were happy.

Mikey was still going out with that girl, Alicia, who Gerard had managed not to meet and get introduced to, although he had seen her from afar at school and knew that she was skinny and dark-haired. Mikey wasn't the only one who was having success with a girl, though. Pete was still seeing Alicia's friend Ashlee, and Brian had asked this girl Greta out. They worked together, or something, and judging by how he couldn't stop talking about her, she must have been pretty special. Gerard was extra happy for Brian because of all the heartache he had put him through, but it was also kind of a relief to not see him as often, because he was afraid that Brian would see straight through him.

He didn't see Mikey as much either, which was a relief for the same reason. He missed him, of course, because they used to hang out a lot more, but he knew that he had done the same thing when he started dating Frank, so it was only fair.

Tonight, Mikey was with Pete and Alicia at Ashlee's house, studying and, since Brian was busy with his girl as well, Bob and Ray hadn't even asked Gerard if he wanted to go out. He usually didn't, even when there weren't any girls invited, because he'd rather stay at home and spend a few sunless hours with Frank, using the excuse of needing to study for finals.

Frank could come over pretty much every night now, because the sun set so late he couldn't get to work early enough to bother at all. Gerard thought he was still getting paid for it, though, having compelled old Bachmeier to think he was always there when he was supposed to be. Gerard didn't really agree with that, but Frank said that even if he was a vampire, he couldn't make money grow on trees. He didn't need a lot, and to work a year or two every other decade was usually enough as long as inflation didn't eat it all up.

"Frank, do you think Mikey will ever be really okay with us being together?" Gerard asked a while after Frank arrived, sitting cross-legged on the bed, drawing, with Frank's head leaning against his shoulder.

Frank sighed. "I don't know. He's your brother." Gerard scoffed, because that was not the answer he wanted, and Frank knew that. Gerard knew that Frank had a better answer, a real answer, and he'd ask until he got it. Frank seemed to know that as well, and finally said, "Probably not. I don't think he'll ever trust me."

"Can't it be enough for him to just trust me?" Gerard turned his head and rested his cheek against Frank's hair, glancing down at the sketchpad on his lap. He was drawing Mikey, which was why he even thought of asking the question. Why he was drawing Mikey, he didn't know.

"He can trust you all he wants, but from the way he sees it, I'm the one with all the power. I'm the one who can take you away from him, with or without your consent, and he has no reason to trust me, to trust that I won't turn you or kill you and take you far away from here." Frank tilted his head up and nudged Gerard's cheek with his nose until Gerard turned his head to meet his lips in a soft kiss. "I wouldn't do that, not unless I had no other choice."

"I know," Gerard whispered, barely even pulling away from Frank's lips. Frank threads his fingers through Gerard's hair as they kiss again. Gerard puts the sketchpad aside as he shifts towards Frank, holding him close as they fall back onto the mattress, Gerard on top. Gerard groaned as one of Frank's hands slipped in under his shirt and moved up over his back, dragging his fingernails over the skin.

Gerard loved this. He loved kissing Frank, and making out, touching and slowly building up to that stage where there just had to be more, they had to get off, or they'd explode. Mostly, though, he really loved the kissing. He loved it when Frank would bite him, too, but it always left him feeling spent and useless, and most times he didn't even have the energy to get it up afterwards. Thankfully, Frank never asked to do it, it was always Gerard who offered when he felt ready to do it again. Tonight, he wouldn't because it had only been three days since last time, and he preferred to wait at least four days between each time. Instead, he asked for something else.

"Frank," he said, panting a little against Frank's hot mouth. "Frankie, do you want to fuck me?" He could feel his cheeks heat up before the words were even out and, when he pulled back and saw Frank's surprised, albeit excited, he immediately muttered, "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. Just forget I ever said it, okay?" He looked down, locking his eyes on Frank's chest, wishing Frank's shirt was off so he could lose himself in Frank's tattoos.

"Gee, if forgetting it is what you want me to do, then fine. But if you want to— If you want to, we can talk about it, or we can just... do it," Frank said, lifting Gerard's face back up with two fingers on Gerard's chin. Gerard pretended he couldn't feel Frank's erection on the inside of his thigh.

"I want to do it," Gerard whispered. "I just haven't really, you know, thought about it. I haven't thought it through properly." It wasn't completely true, because Gerard had thought about it a little. He knew the basics, and he knew what was needed, and he knew what positions were generally easier in the beginning, but applying the knowledge to Frank and himself was a completely different matter. "I know I want to, though. With you." His cheeks flushed hotly again, but Frank just kissed him softly.

"If you're sure," he said, smiling, and Gerard nodded eagerly, deepening the kiss and getting straight back into it. He rolled his hips once, and then again, and Frank moaned so loud, pushing back up against him before finally rolling them over. They were both shirtless within a few seconds, and Frank wormed his way down, licking and kissing at the scars left after he bit Gerard, first the chest, then below the ribs, below his bellybutton, and then he had to take off Gerard's jeans to reach the one on the inside of his right thigh. Gerard gasped as Frank's raspy tongue moved over the last, still tender wound, and he could feel Frank smile against it.

Frank pulled Gerard's jeans all the way off before letting his boxers follow, and finally got his own pants and underwear off. Gerard wasn't sure if it was the knowledge of what they were about to do or what, but he was sure he had never seen Frank look so gorgeous before. He was almost glowing in the dark, his cock big and swollen, flushed red and dark with his mysterious vampire blood. And the way Frank looked at him was enough to make Gerard blush all over like the scared little virgin that he was.

When Frank climbed back on top of him, Gerard couldn't keep his hands in check, he wanted to touch him all over. "I love you," Frank whispered and kissed him, first long and deep on the mouth, and then light and quick all over his face.

"Yeah, Frankie," Gerard breathed, pressing against him, caressing his sides, squeezing his love handles, his ass, digging his fingers into Frank's back. He could feel Frank's cock, resting hot against his, and normally that would be good, that would be enough, but not tonight. He needed more. He needed it now.

"How—" he tried to say, but his voice betrayed him. "How do you want to—" he tried again, and was interrupted by Frank's lips on his.

"It's easier on your knees," Frank whispered, brushing Gerard's hair out of his eyes. "Is that okay?" Gerard nodded, because that's what he had heard as well, and how he had expected his first time to be. He was going to miss seeing Frank's face, because he had grown to love the look of absolute nothingness that came over his face when he came, and Gerard would always try to watch him.

Frank got off of him, letting Gerard roll over and get up on all fours. It was a strange position to be in, feeling overly exposed and vulnerable with his ass in the air like that, but he knew it was only Frank in the room, and everything was going to feel really good in just a little bit. Frank sidled up behind him, hands gentle on his hips, and the way his cock slid between Gerard's ass cheeks was fucking perfect. Gerard pushed back a little, wanting more of it, but Frank tightened his grip, making him stay put.

"Do you have lube?" Frank asked, sounding strangely breathless for someone who didn't need to breathe.

"In the drawer. There are some condoms too," Gerard said, and Frank moved so fast Gerard didn't have time to miss the heat of his body.

"We won't need condoms," Frank said, a little huskily, in his ear. Frank leaning forward made his dick press even harder against Gerard's ass, and Gerard whimpered; he couldn't even help it.

"Please, Frank," he begged, and Frank licked his spine before pressing a slick finger against his hole.

Gerard was nervous, and definitely a little terrified, but he wanted it so much, and he felt so safe with Frank that he wasn't all that tense. Frank's finger slid in easily and, although it was one of the weirdest things Gerard had ever experienced, he wasn't really in any pain. "That's... strange," he panted, and Frank laughed against his back and curled the finger a little, which felt even weirder.

"Okay?" he asked, sliding the first finger out and added a second one when pushing back in, and okay, that stung a bit, but it wasn't terrible. Gerard could make it work.

"I'm fine. Just keep going," Gerard groaned, and then moaned, loud and sharp when Frank's fingers pushed in a bit further and he curled them to touch that spot, the spot Gerard had heard about, but never fully believed in. Anything that felt _that_ good simply couldn't be real, but there he was, with Frank's fingers in his ass, definitely feeling it. "Jesus Christ."

"I know, Gee. I know," Frank said, almost laughing a little, and kissed his spine again, licking long strokes up and down, nipping lightly with his teeth. He kept moving his fingers in and out; stretching Gerard open and making him feel so good he was starting to move his hips in time with Frank's hand, fucking himself on his fingers. He was slowly starting to lose it, sweating and shaking, his arms giving out so that he was down on his elbows, and when Frank asked "More?" Gerard could only nod.

Three fingers were perfect. He was stretched so far, with this slight burn, but it didn't hurt, and he had never expected it to feel this good. He had never imagined that anything could feel this good, that someone's fingers could make him fall apart like this.

"You ready?" Frank asked after a few minutes, and Gerard nodded frantically. Yes, he was fucking ready. The fingers were good, they were amazing, but he needed something more, bigger and better, and God, just thinking about Frank's cock inside him made his thighs tremble and his shoulders tense. He couldn't help but cry out the moment he felt Frank's cock against his ass again, and Frank kissed his back, pressing his forehead against Gerard's spine. "God, Gee. If you could see yourself right now— You look amazing."

"God, oh fuck, oh," Gerard murmured into his forearm as Frank pressed in, the stretch feeling so good, burning a little, but not so much that it hurt, not really. The pressure was just right, and Frank was slow and gentle, but Gerard still wanted more, wanted all of Frank right now; wanted him to really fuck him.

"Oh God, Frankie, Frankie, please. Please, I just— I need—" He moaned loudly when Frank pulled out and pushed in again, faster than before, and it was so good. He pushed his hips back hard against Frank, gasping at the feeling, and Frank dug his fingernails into Gerard's hips so tight Gerard thought he was going to draw blood.

"You feel so good, Gee. So hot. I want you so much." Frank groaned against Gerard's shoulder as he started to really thrust, a little faster and harder with every snap of his hips, and Gerard was in heaven. Something was still a bit off, though, Gerard noticed. Frank wasn't hitting that spot, wasn't getting the right angle, and even if this was amazing, Gerard wanted everything.

"Frank, can you— I want—" Gerard couldn't get the words out to ask for it, but Frank fucking read his mind and wrapped his arms around Gerard's waist and hauled him backwards and up, until he was practically on Frank's lap.

Frank's chest pressed against his back, his chin resting on Gerard's sweaty shoulder, and Gerard let his head loll back to press his cheek against Frank's. He moaned louder than before when Frank started thrusting again, and this was so much better than before, because now he could almost see Frank's face, and he could brush their lips together, and he didn't have to hold himself up, so he could touch his cock, which was true bliss.

"Gee, oh fuck, Gerard. I love you, I want you, oh—" Frank licked his neck, pressing his nose against Gerard's pulse for a moment before resting his forehead against his shoulder instead. "Fuck, Gee, fuck, I'm sorry, Gerard, I'm—"

Before Gerard could focus enough to ask "What?" Frank had sunk his teeth, his _fangs_ into Gerard's shoulder and sucked hard on his blood, moaning deep. "Frankie, Frankie, yeah," Gerard panted, throwing his head back and moving his free hand back to Frank's hair, not trying to pull him away, but pressing him closer.

Gerard was going to come any second; he could feel it in his entire body, all the way from his toes to the tip of his nose. The longer Frank sucked his blood, the harder he was fucking into him, and Gerard was getting so loud he would have worried his parents might hear if he only could concentrate enough on it. He would also have been embarrassed by how vocal he was, but he just couldn't help the high-pitched "Ah!"s that escaped him every time Frank hit that spot inside him.

Frank finally pulled away from his shoulder, and groaned into his ear, "Fucking come for me, Gee."

One, two, three more thrusts, and Gerard came all over his hand, riding it out on Frank's dick until Frank's hips stuttered to a halt as he came, moaning into Gerard's hair. Gerard slumped back against Frank's chest, not having the energy to do anything else, despite how strange Frank's cock felt inside of him now that the sex was over. He was totally spent, and covered in come, and he knew that he was going to be sore beyond imagination the next day, but it didn't matter, because it had been so, _so_ fucking worth it.

After a minute, Frank carefully eased him forward and down to lie on the bed as he pulled out before lying down next to Gerard and licking his shoulder clean of the blood that kept running after Frank pulled off. Gerard purred, because it felt so nice, and intimate, and so fucking right for this moment, like Frank was taking care of him. Not even Frank whispering, "I'm sorry, Gee. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," could ruin this moment.

"Frank—" Gerard started, but was cut off by a wince as he tried to roll over a little too quickly. "Frank, it's okay. I don't mind. You didn't hurt me." He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Frank's, pushed his tongue into his mouth and moaned at the taste of his own blood like he always did. "As bizarre as it sounds," he whispered, blushing, "I liked it. I like it when you bite me, Frankie."

"But I did it without your permission. I stole it from you," Frank argued, and Gerard nodded, because yes, he hadn't intended to let Frank drink from him tonight, but now that it had happened, he was happy that it had.

"I know, but I don't want you to feel bad about it. It was amazing, Frank, all of it, and I don't want you to ruin tonight by feeling guilty about that." He pressed a final kiss to Frank's lips before lying down and snuggling into his chest, resting his face in the crook of Frank's neck. Now that he was coming down from the high of his orgasm, he felt exhausted after the sex and the loss of blood, and just wanted to sleep.

"You okay?" Frank asked, wrapping an arm around Gerard and rubbing his shoulder.

"I'm perfect." Gerard smiled against Frank's skin and, just like that, drifted off to sleep.

*

**Thursday, May 5th 2011**

Gerard vaguely remembered Frank waking him up some time during the night to make him put on a t-shirt, just in case Mikey would barge in and demand a girl talk like he sometimes did after spending too much time with his girlfriend. Gerard slept like a baby the rest of the night though, so if Mikey came in, he didn't wake Gerard up.

When he did wake up, and attempted to roll out of bed, he almost screamed; his body hurt so much. He managed to limp to the bathroom and into the shower and stood under the hot spray of water until he didn't feel as sore as before. His ass was the worst part, and he was trying to figure out how not to let it show, but didn't come up with any ideas. The spot where Frank had bit him hurt more than usual too, as if he had accidentally bitten him harder than necessary in his excitement.

When he finally made it upstairs, it was too late for him to have time to have coffee, but Mikey still had some left in his mug, so Gerard stole it and downed it in one go. Then he winced, because his neck hurt just as much as the rest of his body hurt. He had never wished so much for his and Frank's relationship to be out in the open so that he could tell someone that he had just lost his virginity up the ass and wanted to stay in bed all day to recuperate.

"What's wrong?" Mikey asked, because he's a super attentive son of a bitch, and Gerard tried to shrug, but ended up wincing again.

"Got a crick in my neck. I must have missed my pillow when I fell asleep last night." Mikey nodded, thankfully buying Gerard's lame excuse, and Gerard could only hope that he wouldn't pay too much attention to the rest of Gerard's body today. "Well, come on, let's go." Gerard picked up his mom's car keys from the table, and smiled to himself. He had never been so happy to drive to school as he was today.

*

Gerard was in luck most of the day. None of his friends seemed to think he was moving weird or anything, at least not after he told them he had a crick in his neck, and Bob, being an asshole, patted his shoulder, which hurt like fuck.

Gabe Saporta waved and said hello to him in the hallway, wearing a creepy grin the size of Texas. Gerard pointedly ignored both him and William Beckett, who was staring at the floor and tugging on Gabe's sleeve, seemingly wanting to disappear. As far as Gerard knew, they hadn't been hanging out with the rest of the basketball team since Gabe's revelation and the incident in the bathroom. If graduation wasn't so close, they would probably have been kicked off the team as well.

"What the fuck is up with that?" Ray asked when they had passed, and all Gerard could do was shrug and wince, and shake his head and wince, because he didn't know what to say.

"I heard something about Saporta coming out of the closet, proclaiming his love for Beckett and both of them getting shunned by the basketball team," Bob pitched in, sounding confident. "I don't know why anyone was surprised to find out."

"It's cruel, though," Ray said. "To stop talking to them and everything, just because they like guys. It's not like it's contagious."

"Maybe Gabe's crazy is, though," Gerard said, and they all laughed. He hadn't told anyone about exactly how Gabe had gone crazy, and no one else seemed to have made the connection between the bite on Gabe's neck and his change in personality. If they had, they hadn't brought it up.

*

When Gerard got home that afternoon, he wanted to just throw himself on the bed and sleep for a year. He had promised Mikey and the others to go out that night, so he shed his clothes and went straight for the shower instead, turning the water up so hot it almost hurt. It worked wonders on his sore muscles, though, and he stayed there under the spray, rubbing his muscles a bit to ease them up even more, until the water started going cold.

He wasn't in any hurry when he got out of the shower, so he took his time drying his body and hair, not wanting to make any sudden or rushed movements, causing himself more pain. He took his time going back into his room and getting dressed as well, a little too much time apparently, because when he was still just wearing jeans and no t-shirt, the door flew open behind him and Mikey barged in.

"Gee, Alicia just called and asked if I wanted to come over tonight, so I won't—" Mikey stopped suddenly, and asked slowly, just as Gerard turned around, "What's that, on your... shoulder." Gerard realized his mistake as Mikey's eyes moved over the scars on his chest and stomach, and he almost wanted to cry when he saw the rage flare up in Mikey's normally sweet and kind eyes.

"Mikey, I can explain," he said, but it was as if Mikey couldn't hear him at all, as if he had simply shut off his hearing to all of Gerard's bad excuses.

"Unless you’re gonna tell me he's been forcing himself on you, I don't wanna hear it," Mikey said quietly, barely moving his lips. Gerard didn't say anything, just reached for a t-shirt and put it on. "Fuck, Gerard, how could you?" Mikey shouted when he realized Gerard wasn't going to tell him what he wanted to hear. He kicked out and sent the chair by Gerard's desk to the floor. "How could you let him do that? How could you even let him within four feet of you? After everything he did? After everything he put you through?"

"He didn't do anything, Mikey. That was you. You're the one who ruined everything; you're the one who hurt me. _He_ would never hurt me. He loves me. I love him."

"He doesn't love you!" Mikey shouted, moving closer and shoving Gerard so that he fell back on to the bed. "He doesn't love you. He's using you. All he wants is to drink your blood and hurt you. When he's had enough and when he's bored of it, he's gonna kill you. He doesn't love you, Gerard."

"You don't know him! You've never even tried to get to know him. You just found out what he was and judged him by that without even trying to find out what he's really like—"

"If I had, he would have fucking brainwashed me! Just like he has brainwashed you! You're not thinking rationally! He has fucking murdered people! You know that. He's a monster, and he feeds on humans; he's been feeding on you!"

"Yeah, because I asked him to! I'd rather have him feeding on me that other people. Because I love him, and he loves me, and you are not gonna break us up this time. You can do whatever you fucking want. I'm not leaving him." Tears were running down Gerard's cheeks now, almost without him even noticing. He didn't care, though. He didn't care if Mikey saw him cry, he actually hoped it might make Mikey accept that there was nothing he could do now.

"Gee, just stop—" Mikey said, sighing. Gerard could see tears glittering in his eyes as well.

"No, Mikey, you stop. I love him. I love him more than anything. I'd do anything to keep him safe." He pushed himself up off the bed again and pulled Mikey into an awkward hug which Mikey didn't return.

"Well, if that's how you want it," Mikey muttered, pulling away, head turned away and eyes locking on the floor.

"Mikey!" Gerard called after him as he left, "Mikey, please!" He got no reply and, after a few seconds, he sank back onto the bed. The tears kept running freely as he stared at the closed door that Mikey had slammed shut behind himself.

He lay down for a while after that, not knowing at all what he was supposed to do with himself. The tears were still pouring silently down his cheeks, disappearing into his hair as he wished more than ever that Frank was there. He wanted someone to tell him that everything was going to be okay, that Mikey would get over himself and try to understand where Gerard was coming from, and the only person who _would_ do that, was Frank. Everyone else Gerard knew would easily take Mikey's side because no one knew Frank like he did.

He eventually remembered that he was supposed to go out with the guys that night, but he couldn't even consider not meeting up with Frank as soon as possible, so he sent Ray a text letting him know he wasn't feeling well, so he'd stay at home. He figured Mikey would let them all know his big secret soon enough anyway, and he didn't want to see their disappointed or disgusted faces. He didn't want to try and tell them all that Frank wasn't bad, that Frank wasn't a monster when he knew that they wouldn't understand, that they wouldn't believe him anyway. He tried to imagine Brian's face when he found out, but it just hurt, so instead he went back to wishing Frank was there.

His tears were starting to dry out and, after a while, he simply fell asleep; feeling exhausted after all the emotional turmoil added to the physical soreness after last night. When he woke up again, it was almost dark out, and he decided that he couldn't just wait around for Frank in his room. He suddenly got scared that Mikey would go crazy and attack Frank on his way to Gerard, and he couldn't risk that, so he quickly put his shoes on and left.

He walked as fast as he possibly could towards the graveyard, even taking off at a jog once he could see the church. An elderly couple gave him sour looks as he rushed past them and in through the gates, breaking into a run as the darkness fell over the graveyard. He was worried that Frank might have already left, that he was too late, and wished he had been closer to the other end of the large graveyard.

He finally reached the corner Frank had indicated that time they met there and, just as he stopped, leaning forward and panting with his hands on his knees, he saw someone moving in the shadows.

"Frank?" he said loudly, and as the figure stopped, Gerard limped forward to it.

"Gee, what are you doing here?" Frank asked, and Gerard fell into his arms once he was close enough and could actually see his face. He felt kind of ready to die now that he had found Frank and the adrenaline had stopped pumping, his entire body aching and chest heaving. His heart was beating so hard he thought it was going to explode, but he was so happy to have found Frank okay that he didn't care.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," he said, almost slurring a bit, into Frank's neck, clinging to him as he tried to breathe. "I'm sorry, Frank, I wasn't thinking, I just— I had just showered, and I didn't think anyone would come in, but Mikey, he saw, he saw the marks. I'm sorry, I hadn't gotten dressed—"

Frank pulled away a little, making Gerard almost stumble until he caught his balance again. "Gee, slow down. What are you talking about? What happened?" Gerard had to fight not to start crying again, and somehow he managed to do it.

He took a deep breath before saying, "Mikey knows. He knows that we're together. I had a shower, and I didn't put my shirt on right away, and he came in and saw the marks." It felt as if his heart broke a little as he watched Frank's face fall, and he moved forward to hug him again without even thinking.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice hitching, because he was sorry, and he was scared, and he didn't know what they were supposed to do now. He didn't know what Mikey was going to do either, what he and the others were going to plan. He didn't like to think about it, but it was Frank and he against them now. Against his amazing little brother and the guys he had called his friends for so long.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay," Frank whispered softly, holding him close, threading his fingers through Gerard's hair in that way that made him purr like a kitten. "It's not your fault, Gee. It was going to come out sooner or later anyway. I wish we could have had a little more time to prepare, but it is what it is, okay? We can do this." Gerard sobbed a little into Frank's hair, clinging to him as it started to rain. It was only a light drizzle, but it was cold and wet, and Gerard shivered.

"Come on, let's go. We can still go to your place, right?" Frank held Gerard's waist tight as they started walking. He was supporting most of Gerard's weight, Gerard feet and legs not wanting to cooperate properly, his muscles having gone stiff in the cold after the run.

"Yeah, I don't think he's gonna do anything there. He wouldn't dare to, not with Mom and Dad upstairs." They were lucky they didn't run into any of the other guys, as Gerard was pretty sure they were at Bachmeier's and might be heading home at this time. He thought for a moment that Mikey and the others were gonna pop up outside the house and not let them enter, but there was no one there, and they could pass through the garden to the basement door without trouble. He worried that Mikey would be waiting for them in the basement hallway or Gerard's room as well, but he wasn't, and Gerard finally let himself relax a bit as he sat down on the bed.

"I'm sorry," he said again, looking at his hands on his lap, picking at his nails.

"Stop saying that. It's not your fault," Frank said, sighing as he slid down to his knees in front of Gerard, taking his hands in his. "Hey, look at me," he coaxed, and Gerard did. "Did you tell him that we were together? Did you think that he was going to be okay with it and therefore decided to tell him?" Gerard shook his head. "Exactly. It was an accident. It's not your fault."

"But I was careless. I should have put a shirt on as soon as I got out of the fucking shower. Now I've ruined everything." Not saying anything, Frank leaned up and kissed him, his lips cold but soft as they met Gerard's. "Your lips are cold," Gerard pointed out with a small smile.

"Sorry," Frank whispered, smiling back, and when Gerard replied, "Not your fault," he only raised an eyebrow. "Fuck you, it's not the same," Gerard argued, turning away, and Frank sighed.

"It is, because you couldn't help Mikey just walking in. You didn't know that anyone was gonna come in, so you didn't put your shirt on. It's not your fault." Gerard felt Frank's cold fingers on his chin and turned his head back to Frank, allowing him to kiss him again before leaning their foreheads against each other, not saying anything.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Gerard let out a little sniff and whispered, "I'm so scared I'm gonna lose you." Frank kissed his cheek before climbing onto the bed and hugging him, holding him close to his chest. Gerard could feel Frank's nose press into his hair. "It hurt so much last time. I don't know what I would do if I lost you now."

"I'm right here, Gee. I'm not going anywhere," Frank whispered, and Gerard turned his head back for a kiss, moving a hand to tangle in Frank's damp hair.

"I don't even know why I feel like this. I know I'm not supposed to, because I know what you have done and I know that to some point, Mikey is right. You hurt people, and you could hurt me, but still I— I—" His voice broke and Frank tucked Gerard's face into his neck.

"Shh, it's okay."

"Don't leave me, Frank. Whatever you do, don't leave me." Frank just held him tight, and Gerard kept talking now that he had found his voice again. "I'm so scared that they'll chase you away, or that they'll hurt you. That they'll kill you."

"Don't think like that. We'll get through this." Gerard wondered if Frank's words sounded as empty to him as they did to Gerard. He was so obviously just saying what he thought Gerard wanted to hear, but Gerard didn't want to hear that. He wanted a solution, and to shut his eyes and wish the problems away was not a viable solution.

"We should run away," he said, so quietly he knew Frank wouldn't have heard it if he didn't have super hearing. "We should run away, like you and Jamia were going to. We can go away, and be together, and maybe in a few years we can come back and Mikey will have calmed down, and once he sees that I'm okay, he'll stop hating you." He pulled back and looked hopefully at Frank.

"Gee, you know that plan meant turning Jamia." Gerard shook his head stubbornly.

"But you don't have to turn me. It's not the nineteenth century anymore Frank. We can travel at night and you can easily find places to hide during the day. We could disappear, just for a few years. When Mikey sees that we've been together all this time and you haven't hurt me, he'll come around. He'll be okay with it, I know he will," Gerard pleaded with Frank, cupping cheeks in his hands and pressing their foreheads together. "It's the only way, Frank. They're going to try and hurt you, and I can't let that happen."

"You seriously think he's going to be okay with you disappearing with me for a few years?" Frank looked skeptical, but Gerard knew he was starting to ease up to the idea.

"I wouldn't just leave. I'd leave him a note or a message of some kind, letting him and my parents know that I was with you, and that I'd come back," Gerard said easily. It was the simplest thing in the world, and there was no way that it would fail. Well, it could fail if Mikey still hadn't gotten over himself after five or ten years and still wanted to kill Frank, but Gerard was sure that by that time, Mikey would care more about seeing his brother again than murdering his vampire boyfriend.

"Gerard, I just— I don't know. I don't want you to have to leave your whole life behind because of me. You're going to College in a few months. You have so much going for you here, I can't be the reason you leave it all behind. I won't be."

"I can go to College somewhere else! It doesn't have to be at SVA in New York. It doesn't even have to be Cartooning. I can major in something else, I don't care. I just want to be with you." Gerard pressed a tender kiss on Frank's lips, trying to express just how much he wanted to be with Frank and didn't care about anything else.

"Gee..." Frank sighed, caressing Gerard's cheek. "It's late. You should get some sleep. We can talk more about this tomorrow, okay?" Gerard wanted to object and argue, but Frank was using a very definite tone of voice, and Gerard really was tired.

"Fine," he said, leaning in to kiss Frank. "You're staying, right? I know you need to feed, but I'd like it if you stayed as long as possible, okay? I don't want you running around when I know there are people out there wanting to hurt you."

"Yeah, I'll stay as long as I can. I'll make it till tomorrow night."

"Good," Gerard whispered, and they kissed again, long and slow, tongues moving lazily in and out of one another's mouths. Frank moaned softly, and Gerard pulled away, giggling. "If I wasn't so tired and sore, I'd let you fuck me again."

Frank grinned and kissed him again, before saying, "Another time then."

They got undressed and crawled into bed after that, Gerard not bothering with the t-shirt now that the secret was out anyway, and it was nice because he hadn't realized how much he had missed the feeling of Frank's chest against his bare back, although Frank was still a little cold now. He warmed up soon enough, though, and Gerard pressed closer against him, hugging the arm Frank had wrapped around his waist.

"I still say we run away," Gerard whispered after a few minutes of lying in the dark, making Frank snort and laugh into his hair, "Shut the fuck up. Go to sleep."

"Goodnight," Gerard replied, trying not to giggle as he laced his and Frank's fingers over his chest.

"Goodnight."

*

**Friday, May 6th 2011**

Frank of course wasn't there when Gerard woke up, but it was still early enough so that Gerard could be sure that Frank hadn't been gone very long, at least not if he had kept his promise to stay till dawn. Gerard felt uneasy and worried, like something was wrong, but he figured he was going to feel like that all day until nightfall, when he could see Frank again and see that he was fine. He hated it, not being able to check on Frank and know that he was okay; he always had, but he hated it even more now that Mikey knew about them.

Another thing he hated was the thought of having to face Mikey again, because he'd rather not do that until after running away with Frank and then coming back again. He wanted things to be normal between them, but Mikey was fighting him all the time and, if Mikey couldn't accept Gerard's choices, they were going to have to make some adjustments.

He sighed as he rolled out of bed, and groaned because he was still sore, although it was slightly better than it had been yesterday. Getting dress still hurt, though, and he was always tired in the morning, and he was angry at the world, and he needed coffee. He realized that he hadn't had any at all the previous day, which immediately increased the need right now, so he walked upstairs to have some, and ran into Pete in the hallway.

It took him a moment to realize that something was off, because he was tired and caffeine deprived, but when he looked a bit closer, he noticed that Pete looked like shit. Literally. He was dirty all over and his normally neat hair was all messed up with leaves and shit sticking out of it, and he looked as if he hadn't slept all night. Mikey stumbled in seconds later, running into them both, looking like he was in the same state of disarray as Pete, possibly even worse.

"What the fuck happened to you two?" he couldn't help but ask, feeling the curiosity growing in his chest. If he didn't know better, he'd say they looked like they had had sex in a bush, all night, but he did know better, so he guessed that they had simply lost a fight with the bush instead.

Then he realized he was supposed to be making coffee and kept walking to the kitchen with Pete and Mikey in tow, waiting for a response. When none was give, he asked, "Seriously, what have you been doing?" Pete giggled at the question, but Mikey gave him a stern look, making him shut up.

"We killed him," he said quietly and darkly, before adding. "It's over."

Gerard felt as if a blanket of ice was thrown over him as he said, "Excuse me?" He could feel all the color draining from his face, and his hand that was holding a jug of water to pour into the coffeemaker was shaking so much that the water was spilling out over the counter. "What did you just say?"

He turned to look at Mikey, searching for any sign that he was just joking, that they were kidding. They couldn't be serious. "We killed him, Gee. He's gone." The jug dropped to the counter, water spilling everywhere, but Gerard didn't care. He was already across the room, on his way outside. "Gee, where are you going?"

"To find him!" he yelled, and had to concentrate on not punching Pete who had grabbed his sleeve to stop him, just shrugging him off instead. "He's not dead until I have proof of it."

"The sun was going up, Gerard. He had started to burn when we left him. There's not going to be anything left," Mikey said, sounding almost remorseful, but not quite getting there.

"I hate you." With those words directed at Mikey, he pushed Pete aside and stormed out of the house, fighting back the tears that were very persistently prickling at his eyelids. He wasn't going to cry, though, not until he was sure, and he had already decided not to be. He wasn't going to find any proof that Frank was dead, because Frank simply couldn't be dead. It wasn't possible. Gerard wouldn't allow it.

Mikey had said that they had seen him start to burn, but they hadn't stayed, they hadn't watched him die, they were just two big cowards. Frank wasn't, though, he was a fighter. He would have gotten away the second they left, he would have found shelter.

He ran through the garden, found a few messed up bushes and flattened grass underneath them, showing signs of having Pete and Mikey waiting there all night. It wasn't far from the basement door, meaning that they must have jumped at Frank the second he stepped outside and closed the door. Gerard should have heard it, if he hadn't been so deep asleep he would have, and he could have helped, could have stopped them.

"Oh God, Frank," he sobbed, covering his mouth with a hand. He couldn't believe this. There was nothing left there, but he couldn't think of anywhere else they might have gone during the fight, and he didn't know where Frank might have fled either. He would have known if Frank had gone back into the basement, Frank would have had to break in because the door locks automatically, but the door hadn't been touched.

That's when he heard a bang, as if from a door slamming against the frame in the wind. He looked around a bit and spotted a bright red garden shed a few houses down the street. The door was open and blowing back and forth in the wind, the opening facing away from the sun. He was moving before he could even think about it, running like he had last night, adrenaline making his legs move on their own accord. He was hopeful, but he didn't dare think it, didn't dare take Frank being in there for granted until he had seen him and, when he finally got there, his face fell.

Then he heard a painful grunt and saw movement, and heard a raspy "Gee?" and he was so happy he could have cried. He didn't, though; he couldn't, because he was flinging himself inside, shutting the door behind him, and falling to his knees next to Frank, who didn't look anything like himself. His skin was black and cracked; his face completely unrecognizable except for his eyes that were still glowing.

"It hurts," he tried to say, and Gerard could just barely make it out. Gee, please. It hurts... so much."

"I know, Frank, I know. I'm here, okay? I'm here, it's gonna be okay." He stroked Frank's hair, because that was the only part of him that looked like he could touch it without bringing Frank any more pain. "They're not here, they can't hurt you now. I'm here, and I'm gonna help you. I won't let them hurt you again, you hear that? I'll never let them hurt you, I promise." Tears were starting to fall now, dripping off Gerard's chin and landing on Frank's burnt skin as Frank could only stare back up at Gerard, eyelids not moving.

Gerard looked him up and down then, and for the first time noticed the thin wooden stick in Frank's chest. It was standing out at a weird angle, and Gerard could tell that it had never even touched Frank's heart, but he was still terrified to touch it, worried that he'd stake Frank's heart by accident. He knew it had to come out, though, so he gripped it just where it entered Frank's body and pulled it straight out. Frank flinched, but didn't say anything, and Gerard kept searching his body, thinking there might be more shit causing Frank pain.

He found two crucifixes duct taped to either of Frank's wrists. He sobbed at the sight, and cursed his brother's name, wondering how he could have been so fucking cruel. This was torture. They had tortured Frank, and left him to die. Gerard couldn't even understand how Frank had managed to get to this shed, when his injuries and burns were so extensive. He was in so much pain he couldn't move now.

He got up for a moment to look for something sharp to cut off the duct tape with, and for the first time he was actually happy they were in a garden shed of all places, because it was full of tools. He found a knife almost right away, and carefully tried to cut the thick tape from Frank's wrist without breaking his skin. It would be stupid to hurt him even more now; he needed all the energy he could get to heal.

The crucifixes came out easily, though the skin around them was burned both by them and the sunlight, and it seemed like there wasn't much left of Frank's wrists.

"Is there anything else?" He came back up to Frank's head, caressing his smooth hair and leaning close. He wanted to kiss his burnt lips but was afraid to touch him. "Is there anything else hurting you?" he whispered, and Frank managed a crackled "No."

"Then what can I do? Why aren't you healing?" Gerard was getting desperate, because he thought that Frank would have been able to heal himself as soon as all the shit hurting him was gone, but he still only seemed to get worse, slowly fading away in front of Gerard's eyes.

He should have expected the answer he got, should have known it before, because it was so obvious. Still, Frank's reply was like a slap across the face. "Nothing, you— 'M weak. No— No blood."

"You need blood? Okay, Frank, okay. You can bite me, you can drink my blood," Gerard said, feeling oddly relieved. He held his wrist to Frank's mouth for a few seconds before he realized Frank couldn't bite him like this. Instead, he grabbed the knife again and made a deep cut straight across his left wrist before holding it out to Frank again, letting his blood drip into Frank's open mouth. Some of it dripped onto his lips, running down his chin, but it seemed to almost get absorbed by the burnt skin and, slowly but surely, the skin around Frank's mouth started to heal and soften.

He pressed his wrist down against Frank's lips, and soon enough he could feel them latch on and suck, eagerly drinking Gerard's blood. He worried that he might not have enough blood to give, knowing that Frank had drunk from him twice in the past week, but Frank was healing quickly. His face looking almost normal, eyes closed as he lifted his hands to hold onto Gerard's wrist.

The bad thing was that Gerard was starting to feel dizzy. He was starting to feel cold as well, and his hands and feet were going numb. He knew it wasn't good, but Frank was holding his wrist too tight, he couldn't pull away, couldn't move his lips or tongue to tell him to stop. His eyelids drooped and, the next time he managed to open them, he was staring at the ceiling of the shed. He was lying down next to Frank, his left arm bent at an unnatural angle as Frank still sucked hard, not able to stop.

Gerard blacked out, for how long, he didn't know, but the next thing he knew was a sharp taste on his tongue and a strong arm holding him up. "Drink, Gee. Just like that, yeah, nice and easy. Don't forget to swallow." Frank's voice was close, just by his ear, and after a moment Gerard could feel his nose poking into Gerard's cheekbone.

He moaned softly, trying to say something, but not quite knowing what. Frank squeezed his waist and kissed his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Gee, I'm so, so fucking sorry. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to do this, but I didn't have a choice. I couldn't let you die, not like that. I'm sorry."

Gerard moaned again, swallowing the thick fluid in his throat, trying to analyze the taste, but only coming up with one word: Frank. He knew he was drinking from Frank, he knew what was happening, and he knew that everything was going to be okay. He wanted to know what the taste was, though, what Frank tasted like, but he just couldn't identify it.

Eventually, Frank pulled his wrist away from Gerard's mouth, and Gerard whined and tried to reach for it, because he wanted more. He needed more; he needed more so that he could try some more to identify the taste. It was so good; he needed to know what it was.

"I'm sorry I can't give you more, Gee. I'm not strong enough. It must have been enough, though; you were so weak, almost dead. There was hardly any blood left in you to convert." Gerard had no idea what Frank was trying to say, but he could only assume it had to do with the siring. Frank had never explained the physics of it.

"Mmm," he hummed weakly and sighed. "Frank," he murmured, turning his face to Frank, breathing in his hair, smelling it. He tried to laugh, but it only came out as painful wheezes. He smelled sweet, sugary and familiar. "You— You smell like—" he tried to say, but his lips wouldn't cooperate. "Like strawberries."

Frank made a noise that sounded as if he was laughing and sobbing at the same time. "No, I don't. You're delirious."

"You do," Gerard insisted as he could feel the darkness coming over him again. He looked up at Frank tiredly, trying to wet his lips, but it was hard because he couldn't really move his tongue. He wanted to kiss Frank one last time, though, and it seemed like Frank could read his mind because he leaned forward and kissed him. It was really just pressing their lips together, but Gerard thought it was one of the best kisses in his life.

His eyes fell shut and as his heart stuttered and stopped, and the last thing Gerard knew was nothing.

*

**Wednesday, November 16th, 2016**

They leave just after the sun goes down, equipped with a few stakes each as well as large crucifixes. Mikey's worried they won't be able to defend themselves, though, that they'll be held by the neck just like he and Brian were last night, but Pete and the others are confident. Mikey's wearing the golden cross that had belonged to both his grandmother and Gerard, so he's feeling a little safer, but not by much. He knows Brian is scared too, and he finds himself walking closer to him, patting his shoulder and hooking their arms together as they walk a few paces behind everyone else.

"Do you think it's gonna work?" Mikey asks him, wanting to break the cold silence. It makes him feel so lonely.

"I don't know," Brian replies honestly. Ray has come up with a plan, though in Mikey's opinion it isn't so much a plan as just deciding what they are going to do until all hell breaks loose and they just have to do what they can to stay alive. "I hope it works. I hope we make it."

It's a cold night and the sky is clear, making the frost ground glitter in the white moonlight. The streets are completely empty, and they can't hear a sound as they walk, except for the occasional scrape of a sole of a shoe against the asphalt when someone drags their feet. A cat crosses the street thirty or so yards in front of them, but when they reach the spot, there's no sign of it.

Mikey finds himself thinking about the day Gerard disappeared, the day after he had found out that Gerard was letting that disgusting monster take his blood, the day he and Pete had failed so horribly at killing a vampire. It was such a stupid mistake to think that just because Frank was dying, he was actually going to stay that way until he died. He remembers them going inside, telling Gerard, watching Gerard freak out. He remembers Gerard telling him he hated him before running out. He remembers him and Pete changing their clothes and heading off to school on their own.

Gerard hadn't shown up for school, and everybody kept asking Mikey why he wasn't there, but Mikey couldn't say. He didn't expect Gerard to talk to him in a long time, didn't expect him to ever want to look him in the eye again, and until Gerard had forgiven him, it didn't feel right for Mikey to talk about him. He didn't know where Gerard had gone, but he didn't expect him to show up anytime soon.

When he came home from school, his parents started asking where Gerard was too, and Mikey just told them that Gerard was upset about his stupid boyfriend, and to let him be for a while. They listened to him because they trusted that Mikey knew his brother better than anyone, that Mikey knew what was going on, and not until it was really late at night and dark outside, did they get really worried because Gerard hadn't come home.

That's when they called the police, but it was too late. When a dog finally traced Gerard's sent to that tool shed a few houses down the street, where traces of both his and what Mikey figured was Frank's blood, was found, Gerard and Frank were long gone. Despite never finding any bodies, the owner of the tool shed was arrested and convicted for the murders, mostly because he was a bit crazy.

Mikey had always believed that Frank had drained Gerard's blood and hid the body, though. Nobody had told them any specifics, but he had heard rumors about the police finding crucifixes in the shed, all covered in blood, which meant that Gerard must have helped Frank get them off. After that, he must have offered Frank his blood.

Mikey had, for the longest time, believed that Frank had turned Gerard that morning, he had both hoped and not hoped that Gerard had become a vampire, because Mikey wanted his brother to be alive, but he _knew_ that all vampires are evil. He didn't want a fate like that for Gerard.

He had stopped believing that after Bob and Ray met that witch, though, the one who said that there had definitely not been anyone with Frank, because that meant Gerard wasn't alive. Now that he knows that the witch had lied, and has seen the notes in Gerard's handwriting, he isn't so sure what to think anymore. He hasn't told anyone else of his suspicions, and he isn't going to, but he's nervous of what's going to happen if he's right.

Mikey shudders, and thinks, _It's a beautiful night to die,_ but he doesn't say anything out loud. He's so fucking scared he has to focus to even be able to breathe and, as they approach the cemetery, his heart is beating so hard and fast he's sure the vampires are able to hear them coming. They all gather in a small clump, moving together, and Mikey lets go of Brian's arm as he finds Pete's hand and squeezes it tight. They exchange a look and Mikey wishes they were both far, far away from here, but it's too late to change their minds.

They enter the cemetery still gathered in a small circle, Pete walking in first with Mikey clinging to his side. It's empty, dark and absolutely quiet, but they've barely walked twenty yards into the cemetery when they're all pushed apart so suddenly it seems like an invisible force has hit and shattered them across the yard. Mikey feels a hand clutch his throat just like the previous night, but then he hears hisses and curses and feels someone clutch his arms behind his back instead. He instantly regrets keeping his crucifix in a front pocket.

When he looks up, he sees all of them spread out in a wide half circle, held by the throat by various vampires, not one of them daring to reach for a weapon. No one makes a sound, except for Brian, who's in the middle, wearing a terrified expression and whimpering, "No, no, no. Please, no."

Mikey understands why when he follows Brian's gaze, his eyes landing on someone standing a few paces in front of Brian, looking much too familiar. His pale complexion, long, dark hair, brown, loving eyes, it all looks the same. Gerard looks like he always has, caught in the body of a nineteen year old, not having aged a day since he disappeared. Once Mikey can manage to tear his eyes off his long lost brother, he notices Frank standing a few paces behind him, but neither of them is looking at Mikey. They only have eyes for Brian.

"You can let him go, Mike," Gerard says, and Mikey realizes that the vampire holding Brian is the one from last night, the one with the pretty face. "He's not gonna do anything. It's not his style." Gerard smirks and walks closer as Mike moves away, letting go of Brian's throat.

Brian immediately reaches for a stake and the crucifix in his pockets, getting into a fighting stance, but Gerard just laughs at him. "You really gonna use those, Brian?" Brian looks terrified. Mikey's standing ten feet away, but he can see him shaking. "Do you really think that you can kill me?"

"Yes?" Brian whispers, Mikey can barely hear it, but he can tell it comes out like a question.

"No, you can't, Brian. I know you," Gerard says softly. "Throw those things away, into the trees, before your friends get hurt." Mikey's not sure if Gerard's compelling him or if Brian's acting by his own choice, but he knows that Brian is lost the moment he turns and flings the stakes and the crucifix into the trees. When he turns back, Gerard has stepped closer and is touching his face, caressing his cheeks and hair. "That's good. That's so good, Brian."

"Gee," Brian says, almost pleading. For what, Mikey can't tell, but Brian's leaning in to Gerard, moving into his touch, pressing against his body, tilting his head up to look at Gerard, to meet his eyes. "Please, Gee." Gerard pets his hair and he purrs so loud Mikey can hear it. He's watching, spellbound, they all are, but he can't make a sound, can't speak a word to catch Gerard's attention, bring him away from Brian.

"Please what, Brian? What do you want? Tell me. Tell me what you're feeling, why you're here." Gerard leans in closer, so close their foreheads are touching, his hands on Brian's face tender like he's touching his lover.

"Please, please, Gee, I— I want, I need— You. You, I love, love you," Brian half whispers, half shouts, as if it's torn out of him against his will. "I love you," he cries, "And I want you." Gerard's facing mostly away from Mikey, but he can see the wide, adoring smile on his face.

"Do you want to kiss me, Brian?" Mikey knows Brian doesn't want to, he's almost one hundred percent sure of it, but still, Brian nods frantically and surges up against Gerard as their lips meet in a fervent kiss. Mikey's not sure he's ever seen two people kiss like that before, abandoning all control and just letting go, tugging at hair and clothes and clinging so desperately to one another.

Mikey remembers Frank then, and his eyes seek him out where he's still standing a few paces behind Gerard. He can only assume that Frank and Gerard are still together, and the amused look on Frank's face is definitely worrisome. He wants to slap the smug smile off his stupid face, but then Brian's loud moan steals his attention back, and he watches as Gerard practically holds Brian up, still kissing him deep, hands clutching at his hair and clothes. Brian's arms are simply locked around Gerard's neck.

"That was nice," Gerard says when he finally pulls away, leaving Brian to pant harshly against his chest. "I had forgotten how good a kisser you are." He strokes Brian's hair as he talks, an almost nostalgic look on his face. Then he grabs Brian's hair and yanks his head back so hard Brian yelps. "Too bad you don't have any balls to go with it. You're an asshole, Brian. An asshole and a coward. What kind of man tries to get a guy, who's heartbroken about their boyfriend leaving them, into bed?" Gerard changes as he talks, his voice going darker and raspier, and Mikey can only guess what his face looks like.

"It wasn't like that," Brian says, trying to move away, but finding himself locked in Gerard's grip. "I wanted to be there for you. You were sad, and I wanted to make you happy," he pleads, but at this point, it's obvious that pleading doesn't do shit when you're up against vampires.

Mikey and his friends can do nothing but watch as Gerard yanks Brian's head to the side and leans in and sinks his fangs into his throat. They can only listen to his loud scream of pain and panic as he tries to fight, punching Gerard's chest. Mikey's on the wrong side to actually see where Gerard's mouth meets Brian's tattooed skin, but it doesn't matter, because Frank's moves forward, sidling up behind Brian. One of his hands joins Gerard's on Brian's head, angling it up a little, and then Frank's biting the other side of Brian's neck, hard and ruthless if Brian's louder screams are anything to go by.

He keeps struggling, kicking, punching and wriggling, but his efforts are useless as his head and neck remain locked in place as the two vampires feed. He screams, begging for help, but nobody moves, nobody says anything, because they all know it's useless. It's only a matter of seconds before Brian drops dead to the ground, and they all just wait.

Brian goes quiet and stops moving a few seconds later and, not long after, Gerard and Frank drop him to the ground before embracing in a kiss that made Gerard's kiss with Brian look almost chaste. It's passionate and bloody, and Mikey has to look away, because somewhere in his brain he still thinks that that is his brother, and it feels wrong to watch him be so intimate with somebody. He only ends up staring at Brian's body, though, so he looks at Gerard and Frank anyway, and then the two finally pull away, their faces are normal again.

"That was so awesome." Frank grins, hugging Gerard's waist as they lean their foreheads together. "I've wanted to do that for so long, but I don't think I really realized until tonight." They kiss again, almost sweetly.

"Anything for you," Gerard says, grinning, but then it's as if he catches sight of Mikey in the corner of his eye, because he turns and stares straight at him. Not a second later, Gerard's standing in front of him and Mikey remembers the last words Gerard ever spoke to him. The words coming out of Gerard's mouth now, are the last ones Mikey ever expected to hear from him. "I missed you." Mikey just gaped at him. "I'd hug you, but you have one cross around your neck and one in your pocket, so I guess you're not really happy to see me."

Mikey has no idea what to say, so he ends up saying, "You just killed Brian." Gerard looks sad at that, and Frank grasps his hand.

"We did warn you. Several times." Mikey has to look away, finally meeting Pete's eyes again, and then Bob's and Ray's. "We don't want to hurt you, or rather, I don't want to hurt you. But we will if we have to."

"Why don't we just turn them?" the vampire who's holding Pete asks, and Mikey recognizes him as one of Frank's friends who visited him in Belleville so long ago. "I like this one. I think he'd make a good vampire. He'd be pretty with fangs."

"Ryan!" Frank laughs, and the vampire laughs with him.

Suddenly, the one holding Mikey starts moving towards Ryan and Pete, dragging Mikey along, saying, "Oh, let me see, Ryan. How pretty can he be? We could sire him together. Make him ours."

"Aw, Brendon, you always have the best ideas."

Mikey's starting to feel sick as he listens to the conversation, and before he can stop himself, he yells, "Nobody's turning anyone, you fucking monsters!" The one holding Mikey is so surprised by the outburst that his grip slips, and Mikey manages to tear himself loose and pull out his crucifix in one swift move. He holds it out towards Brendon, and almost drops it when another one, Mike, tackles him from the side.

"Stop!" Gerard shouts, and Mikey is instantly free again. He spins and turns the crucifix on the evil being who's wearing his brother's body, and is surprised when he feels tears welling up in his eyes. He knows he should kill them, that he should kill them all, but he can't. He can't kill Gerard, and he can't try to kill any of the others because it would put Pete, and Bob and Ray at risk. He can't do it.

He turns and exchanges a brief look with Pete as the first tear falls, and he wipes it away as he turns back to face Gerard. "I can't live like this," he whispers. "I just can't. Not when I know that you're not dead, and I can't kill you." He hears Pete whisper his name, but he ignores it. "All I want is a normal life. A life with the person I love. A life that doesn't involve anything out of the ordinary." Gerard nods, seeming to understand what Mikey is asking of him. "Can you give me that?"

"Mikey, baby, what the fuck are you doing?" Pete yells behind him, and Mikey turns to him again, ready to explain. 

"This is the only way I can be happy. I can't just walk away from this, knowing that Gerard is still out there. Please, Pete, do this for me." Pete looks heartbroken, but Mikey can see when his words sink in and Pete understands that this is the only way. "You'll do it too, right?" Mikey turns to Ray and Bob, who look at Brian's body for a moment before nodding. Finally, Mikey turns to Gerard and Frank, who both nod as well.

"We're gonna let them all just walk away from here? What happened to killing them?" Ryan complains, but Gerard shoots him a glare that clearly says "Shut up."

"You have to drop the crucifix, and take off the necklace," Gerard says softly, beckoning Mikey to come closer.

"Let the others go," Mikey requests and, with just a look, Gerard makes it happen. Mikey drops the crucifix to the frozen ground and looks around at his friends to make them do the same, and there's a sudden clatter as crucifixes and stakes all fall to the ground. Mikey raises his arms and removes the necklace, placing it on top of a nearby tombstone before stepping closer to Gerard, who catches him by surprise as he hugs him tight. Mikey hugs back, he can't not do it and, when they pull away, more teardrops fall from his eyes.

"Are you sure about this?" Gerard asks, and Mikey nods. "Okay, you have to imagine it. I need to have something to work with."

Mikey does as he's told. He imagines coming to the cemetery and finding just Frank and the two vampires from last night, Gerard having been dead all along. He imagined them killing Brian right away and then watching as Pete kept his promise and struck Frank in the heart with a stake. He smiles at the idea, and opens his eyes again as Gerard interrupts his fantasy with a soft whisper.

"So, you and Pete, huh?" Mikey nods, grinning. "It's just gonna be you two from now on, nothing to worry about anymore. I hope he makes you happy."

Mikey turns to grin at Pete, replying, "Yeah, he's gonna make me happy. Just the two of us. We're gonna be happy. Forever." He turns back to Gerard, who caresses his cheek, before moving his hand to mess his hair up in a truly brotherly gesture. They hug again and Mikey wishes it wasn't a goodbye, but knows that in a few moments, he won't remember this anyway.

"Ready?" Gerard asks and pulls away from the hug, staring into Mikey's eyes as he nods.

It's a strange feeling, looking into Gerard's dark, dark eyes, not seeing anything except for that compact darkness. His eyes are bottomless pits, and Mikey is falling, falling and falling deeper into them, never landing, never slowing down. He's drowning in those eyes, forgetting what's going on, forgetting for a moment who he is, but then he knows, and he's absolutely certain.

He's so happy. He's happier than he's been in his entire life, he knows that it's over and everything is going to be okay now. It's just Pete and he, now, and it's going to be perfect. Pete and he, no one else. Frank and the other vampires are dead, gone. Gerard is in heaven, has been for a very long time.

Mikey is so happy.

They leave a few minutes later, Pete and he. Mikey can't remember the last time he was this happy and, judging by the smile on Pete's face, Pete can't remember the last time he was this happy either. They hold hands and they hug, and they kiss as they walk, unable to stop, unable to express their extreme and utter joy that they did it. They killed Frank, they killed the two vampires that were with him, and it is all over. They can be normal now, have a good life together. Of course they're sad that they lost Brian and Bob and Ray, but they had been prepared for that, they all knew that it might happen.

The important thing is that Pete and he are okay.

"I love you," Mikey whispers against Pete's lips as they lean against a tree just outside the cemetery gates. They kiss again, and Pete whispers, "Love you, too," before they pull away from the tree and keep moving.

As they walk away, hand in hand, neither of them hears the terrified screams coming from the cemetery they're leaving.


End file.
